Archive for June, 2006

Who is Paulino Alcantara?

Are you wondering who this guy is?

Folks, in case you do not know, Paulino Alcantara was a Filipino football player from Iloilo who played for FC Barcelona between 1912 and 1927, scored 357 goals in 357 matches. He is still the club’s all-time top goalscorer and will go down in history as the greatest Filipino football player of all time.

Please check this out: Paulino Alcantara

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Appraisal and Resignation

Here is something I received from my former officemate and tennis friend Benjie who now works in one of the banks in Abu Dhabi.

I have my thoughts on these matters since I arrived from vacation last May.

Comparison study: Appraisal and Resignation

Appraisal:

In appraisal meeting they will speak only about your weakness, errors and failures.

In appraisal you may need to cry and beg for even a 10% hike.

During appraisal, they will deny promotion saying you did not meet the expectation, you don’t haver leadership qualities, and you had several drawbacks in our objective/goal.

There is 90% chance for not getting any significant incentives after appraisal.

Resignation:

In resignation meeting they will speak only about your strengths, past achievements and success.

In resignation you can easily demand (or get even without asking) more than 50-60% hike.

During resignation, they will say you are the core member of the team; you are the vision of the company how can you go, you have to take the project in shoulder and lead your juniors to success.

There is 90% chance of getting immediate hike after you put the resignation.

I have a better idea now of what and which option is best for me to take.

I can only guess that he used this study to weigh his options.

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More than a thousand words

Is there some kind of symbolism here? Does this convey a deeper meaning than just a mere picture of a button? Are we like this or I am just asking too much? What do you think?

Flickr: Photos from pangpang

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Blogged with Flock

The test of the FLOCK

I just installed the new browser called Flock. I am using it now. This post is done directly from the browser’s blog editor.

The system asked for my username and password during the set-up. I say, Good Luck to me.

Hope they keep their word about privacy else I’ll be vulnerable. My mistake, I am too trusting sometimes.

Now, I am having second thought on Mozilla – Firefox… But, maybe not yet. I must make sure that this is more superior to Firefox in terms of safety, functionality and ease of use. Of course, the one I love most, the pop-up blockers. Will Flock succumb to the pop-ups?

I wish I would not see this conked-out when I have more than a hundred tabs opened at one time. I will find out how patient and hardworking this new browser is.

If this Flock comes out to be the best, then I will flock to Flock.

For more information visit their Flock website, their Flock blog. You may also read the review made by Paul Stamatiou and the post by Brian Veloso.

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Stock trading terms and your doctor

I have not written much about my work and something or anything related to it. It is not that there is not much to write about but perhaps, writing them makes me sick somehow (Just kidding! I still have three kids in the university.).

Anyhow, I supposed you’ve met and spoken to a person who works in the stock market or perhaps you’ve seen a TV broadcast about the market. Listen carefully to the terms they used. You will hear words like P/E, 4Q, GNP, GDP, NYSE, Nasdaq and many other acronyms or initial letters and shortcut words. They are used to communicate (similar in purpose) like the BTW, GTG, LOL, cyber and what have you of your cutie friend.

There are many of them but I’ll just give you some that I can play with. Here they are.

GTC – Good ‘Til Cancelled: This means that your order, buy or sell is in effect until such time you cancel them or until executed.

GTW – Good ‘Til Week: This means that your order, buy or sell is in effect during the trading week or until executed. The order will automatically expire in the coming trading week.

GTM – Good ‘Til Month: This means that your order, buy or sell is in effect during the trading month or until executed. The next month, your order will expire automatically.

FOK – Fill or Kill: This means your order must be filled if not, it must be killed.

AON – All or None: This means that your order must be totally filled, no partial execution. This is like a wholesale. Nothing must be left.

I was thinking, if your Doctor happened to be a heavy trader or player of the stock market, he might confuse these terms with his medical terms or he might invent similar letters when writing your prescriptions instead of the usual 3x a day…

GTC: Good ‘Til Cancelled. This means that you will be in medication forever until he cancels it.

GTW: Good ‘Til Weak. This means that until such time that you are weak, you will do whatever he tells you.

GTM: Good To Morgue. This means that you are about to expire or already expired. Your nearest or next destination is the morgue.

FOK: Feed or Kill. This means that he has instructed the nurse to feed you or kill you by starvation.

AON: All or Nothing. This means that you are terminally ill. He takes either all chances or nothing. Instead of amputating your finger, he cuts your whole arm.

Myepinoy Tips: Make sure your Doctor is not into heavy stock trading activity. When he is losing money because of his bad judgment or bad market condition, he might be in a very bad mood and therefore not a good day for you to consult either. He might charge you a very high fee to recover some of his losses.

Seriously speaking, the above-mentioned terms are useful when you do trade. The GTC are sometimes good strategy especially if you are on vacation or busy on something and you cannot attend to your daily trading activity. Through GTC, you maybe able to catch the market upward benefit if you leave a sell GTC on your stocks position or you might get the stock you want at the price you intend to BUY if you place a buy GTC order.

This may also help you lock the profit during volatile market situation.

For more information, please visit U.S. S.E.C. or get any of these books if you want to learn more. [1] [2] [3] [4]

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The KISS

When I was young and still a struggling banker, I learned some kind of principle in life, which I always follow in almost everything I do. It somehow shaped me into what I am today.

Many years back, when most banks in the Philippines are starting to computerize, the term computer phobia was the buzzword. Many employees never had any experience with computer, the P.C. in particular. A P.C. then was a rarity. Most of the ordinary staff was using the manual or the “Jurassic type” typewriter and the big time, the “IBM Electric typewriter”. The bookkeepers and accountants are married to the huge cranky and noisy Burroughs Posting Machine; the Tellers/Cashiers, oh, they adored the NCR Tellers Machine, especially when it is not tired and hungry — it spews the Savings Passbook smoothly and the numbers are written perfectly well. However, if is not in the mood, then you know what nightmare the Teller/Cashier has to undergo.

Our bank at that time was still rich; a crony of Marcos owned it. Therefore, it can afford to send us to the best computer learning school. The management chose Ateneo De Manila Business School in Buendia as the institution that will teach us illiterates, me included in the first batch, of what a P.C. is and what it does, a computer appreciation program of sort and at the same time, a remedy for most of my compatriot(???) oldies who has a computer phobia.

Our handbook says, “Computer Literacy Program”. I guess, we really are a bunch of illiterates. If not, they should have written “Computer Training Program”.

On the first day, after the remarkable lecture of our instructor – he just recited everything that was written in the manual, he brought up a simple yet very intriguing question to us.

Did any one of you here know what KISS is? I am asking you this because in the coming weeks, after we are done with the literacy subjects, you will be taught how to use different kinds of software; word processing, spreadsheet, Dbase III plus and, the exciting part, how to make simple programs. And there, KISS will be useful.” (Why he has to ask this if this is just the KISS we know?)

One of our co-employees, the rich and easy go-lucky guy of the group, raised his hand and said, “Did you mean K I S S as in KISS?

“Yes, it is KISS”, the instructor replied.

“Boss, that was easy. KISS means Kay Inday Super Sarap! (With Inday, it is very delicious!)” And everybody laughed.

“Well, you are wrong. It is not about Inday. Hmm, yes, could be related in someway. Anyhow, just keep that question in mind. When we go to the programming part, I will ask you again what is KISS and why it is important.”

After two weeks, we graduated from being illiterates to somewhat literate people. We are now in the course for the literates, the programming phase.

As the session started, our instructor wrote on the board the longest and complicated flowchart I have ever seen in my whole life. It occupied the whole blackboard and we never have any idea where the start and the end are.

Seeing us amazed and confused, he then brought the question back, “Did any one of you here know what KISS is?

To make the story short, he pointed out that the flowchart in the board is so complicated and that instead of making things easy for the computer to understand, it goes to a very long process that from the start, could have been simplified in few and simple steps. And that, he said would solve the problem, fast and quick. (The guy wasted his time and effort just make a point. tsk. tsk.)

“When you do a program, follow what the Microsoft Boss said, “Keep It Simple Stupid!” And that is KISS for you folks.”

From that time on, I have never forgotten that KISS. I tried my darn best to do the KISS all the time. Until now that I have become me in the banking industry, I still do the KISS. It always worked.

There is one that I have not tried yet, the other KISS. Ha, ha.

You think I will do that! Never! I will never ever do that. It is not as simple as it sounds. It is too complicated for me. Therefore, not the real KISS I will pursue.

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The long wait

This post is intended for Father’s Day. Fortunately, I saw it just now. It came from fellow OFW friend Rey S.

The message touched me so much. Tagos sa buto ika nga. (down to my spine). This could be my story or any OFW’s story. Who knows. There is so much in it.

I just wondered, was this the same feelings my children felt when I left the country to work abroad. I think. Maybe, I don’t know. Children sometimes kept their feelings to themselves (so as not to add more worries to their parents).

Here is the story before Father’s Day ends.

By Christopher George Cadhit

FOR 13 long years I waited for the moment. I was at the Ninoy Aquino International Airport with my mother and my sister, waiting for my father to arrive from the Middle East. I felt like I was 7 years old again, and my father was leaving for Saudi Arabia to work for the first time. I didn’t know exactly what that meant, but being young, I thought it was all about chocolates, toys, imported shoes and lots of US dollars. But it also meant not having a father during those important years of my life.

While most kids in school bragged about their fathers who were doctors, lawyers or engineers, I would stammer and reply whenever I was asked, “My father is…a…an overseas contract worker.” A sense of inferiority went with that confession, and it was not because my father was an OFW but the fact that he was never around during the years that I was growing up.

When he was abroad, my father called every week. He would come home every three years and stay for three months, and go back to Saudi Arabia. In later years, he went home yearly, timing his visits with special family occasions. For instance, he was home when my sister graduated from elementary school and I from high school, and again when I graduated from college and my sister from high school. He also came home when my sister celebrated her debut.

Of course, every visit depended on whether he got a big bonus from his foreign employers. If I hug Papa on his birthday and tell him “I love you,” he’d probably stiffen and feel embarrassed. I can’t blame him. He has never told us how much he loves us, although I have always wanted to hear him say that. I guess he is simply the kind who can’t express his feelings openly. He simply shows his love by giving my sister money or buying me new pairs of shoes and the best leather jackets. You can’t believe how many leather jackets I have accumulated and how many shoes I have collected since he started working abroad. My shoe collection can’t match Imelda Marcos’, but I sure have lots of them.

One time he came home in February. I wanted my parents’ Valentine’s Day together to be special, but I didn’t have money since I was just a college student then. All I could afford were a red cartolina paper and a few sign pens. While they were sleeping on the eve of Valentine’s, I was in my room cutting out small hearts. I wrote all the things I wanted to tell them like, “I love you Mama and Papa” and “I am blessed to have you as my parents.” I pasted the small hearts with these messages all over the house–on the ceiling, on the walls, everywhere they might look.

When they saw what I did the following day, all they could do was smile. I knew they were touched, but we never talked about it. Not having a father was tough. There were things I could ask my mother or aunt about, but there were some things only a father would have understood. Sometimes when I answered his long-distance calls, I wanted very badly to tell him about my problems in school and our barkada. I wanted to ask his advice but then I’d think it’s unfair to add to his worries. So I would tell him everything was okay.

I had friends who didn’t have fathers, too, either because they were working abroad or separated from their wives. On Friday nights, we’d go to the movies and have fun. They smoked and drank, and I would join them sometimes. But I was always bothered by the thought that my father didn’t deserve such acts of rebellion. He wasn’t having a grand time abroad; he was working thousands of miles away from home to give me a good future.

With the money he earned, we were able to build a house that was probably one of the best in the neighborhood. We bought a car, we had the latest wristwatches and we walked around in imported rubber shoes.

We had a good education. We got so many things and continued to buy some more. But as I grew older, I knew my father was growing older too. I knew he wanted to come home and stay with us. But he set the idea aside, convinced that as the head of the family it was his responsibility to provide us everything possible even if it meant being away from us.

Then I made a pact with God: If He would let my father come home permanently to enjoy his remaining years with us, I would be willing to make any sacrifice. After one whole year of praying, I got a call from Papa. He never said anything definite, but I knew God had answered my prayer. I told Mama that same night, “Papa is coming home.” She couldn’t believe it.

But four days later Papa called to tell her he was retiring from his job. Mama cried that night. She said we still had a lot of obligations to settle. Papa would get some retirement benefits, but that wouldn’t last long.

But I knew God had heard my prayer. After more than 13 years, Papa was coming home for keeps. As soon as Papa arrived, the arguments between my parents about the state of their finances began. And they seemed to be arguing more as the days passed.

I would retire to my room, thinking it was my fault. I suspected that the many years that they were apart had somehow made it difficult for them to adjust to living together. But even if they argued almost every day, everything would be okay before they went to sleep. Papa wanted to win back Mama’s favor whatever the cost even if it meant swallowing his pride.

Months after my father’s return, they decided to buy a taxi for my father to drive. I knew that the idea hurt him. He was a supervisor in a petrochemical companay when he retired. He was used to working in front of the computer the whole day inside an air-conditioned room and giving instructions to others. He drove his own car, and he had never been a taxi driver.

When he started driving his taxi, he’d come home late every night looking tired and defeated. I never heard him complain. One time as he was putting down the day’s earnings on our dining table, I started to see him in a different light. Who is this man in front of me? I asked myself. Who is this person who frowns the same way I do and is as stubborn as I am? Where has he been all these years while I was growing up?

After all those years of imagining him holding hands with my mother as they walked in the mall, or having intellectual discussions with me, here he is looking old with his thin hair. After all those years when I didn’t want to wash my leather jackets lest the imprints of his hands would vanish, here he is transformed into a new man whose pride has been taken away from him. He stoops a little now, but I still see strength in his eyes. This challenge will not defeat him, I know.

I waited all those years so that I could tell him that I don’t need the shoes or the jackets. The years of separation made me think that maybe we were different. But every day I discover that we are very much alike in many ways and it makes me proud to be his son. He gave me a good education and allowed me to experience the good things in life. He was willing to sacrifice so that our family could have a wonderful life. We may not have the luxuries we used to enjoy, but the good things we have now are worth enjoying even more. It was worth the long wait.

On his coming birthday, I don’t know if a hug would be enough to show my love and gratitude. I don’t know if messages on paper hearts pasted all over the house would make his day. Maybe I should shine his shoes or buy him a new shirt or a new pair of slippers. I can prepare his favorite dishes together with my mother, sister and aunt. Or I can write him a letter. I just don’t want to pass up this opportunity to make him know how great I feel about his being home with us.

About the Author: Christopher George Cadhit, 27, works as a Research Analyst in a private corporation and is taking his MBA at the De La Salle University. He plays the violin and sings at weddings.

Disclaimer: I searched the net to find out whether this has been posted in a magazine, a column in a newspaper or in any media. Fortunately, there was none yet. Just to make it clear, this material belongs to the above-mentioned author and not to the owner of this blog.

The author’s information is included in the e-mail I received.

If in case, this material has a copyright or someone holds the copyright, please let me know. I will gladly take this out from here. I do not have any intention whatsover to infringe on anyones’ intellectual rights. — myepinoy

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