November Vol. President Maida Antigua, M. Vice-President Dolores Lao, M. Treasurer Gloria Lao, M. Assistant Treasurer Epifania Aranas, M. Secretary Clem S. Estrera, Jr. Anita Avila, M. Perry, GA Ramiro A.
Cadag, M. Chicago, Illinois Tanny Aranas, M. Columbus, Georgia Rosario B. Gonzaga, M. Cumberland, Maryland Elie Gonzales, M. Dajao, M. Charleston, WV Ma. Teresita Antigua-Martinez, M. Markham, Ontario Ailyn U. Tan, M. Perry, Georgia Eli Estabaya, M. Yuma, Arizona Editor: Clem S. Buffalo, New York Wilmo C. Orejola, M.
After we had finished our errands for our parents, my friends and I would hang out together the rest of the day and often all the way into the wee hours of the morning. There were four of us who were close friends and we usually went to the beach, sometimes drinking Tanduay or Shok Tong we called Scotch on the rocks with bow and arrow when we had the money while telling tales and laughing at our jokes.
Even as we busied ourselves with the drinks, jokes and tales, we never missed to immerse ourselves with the enchanting beauty of the moon and the radiance of the stars, as well as the soothing sounds of the waves that seemed to calm our nerves although they did not make us sober. As we were getting drunk late into the night, we would lie down on the beach and we would see the stars that seemed to be swirling, the sky revolving, and the whole dark dome of the cosmos tilting in a magical way.
It was beautiful. We sometimes slept off the night there on the beach to be awakened by the glory of the sun. When the father of one our friends died, we started doing some of our drinking in the cemetery over the grave of my friend's father especially when the moon was bright.
