Under house ‘I-Rest’

My life is a scheduling mess — a quagmire of appointments, press conferences, presentations, events, movie premieres and consuming meals on the run. More often than not, these meals are even a “fiction,” a figment of my dietary imagination, as I’m constantly skipping them while stuck on the road, trying to get to the next thing on my “must-do” list for the day. That pretty much encapsulates my life as a columnist at The Philippine Star’s Sunday Allure section and a regular contributor to Ricky Lo’s Entertainment pages. This, coupled with my day job at ABS-CBN Publishing, translates to stealing time late at night to do my actual writing, and immersing myself in the books I review — a regular feature of my STAR column.

Thankfully (?), I inherited my late mother’s insomnia, and so squeezing in those twilight hours isn’t much of a chore. Or as I like to joke, maybe it’s just selective amnesia, and I’ve forgotten that I have to sleep. Either way, it makes for days that cry out for some moments of pure relaxation, for little pockets of unwinding and just clearing my mind of anything — especially now that I’m no longer a spring chicken... Or even a winter chicken or old rooster!

In the past, there were periods of time when things like heading to the spa were something to look forward to. But unfortunately, nowadays, my body cries out for just heading home, and finding ways to make the day come to a thankful end. There was a time when I would indulge in home service massage, but that went out the window as the hours would creep by attending dinners and/or events, and making the appointed time that the masahista would be at home became more a chore than an anticipated pleasure.

Decades ago, friends would suggest trying out this or that brand of massage chair; but to be totally frank, I would find the experience less than enjoyable, as the purported massage would be more a matter of mechanized prodding, and would be localized to just one’s back — light years away from what it’s like to be given a good massage. So my curiosity was piqued when a trusted friend mentioned that design and technology have made quantum leaps in transforming the modern day massage chair to something quite surprising and enjoyable.

I tried out the I-Rest SL-A33 Robot massage chair in one of its showrooms, and yes, I was so impressed that it now sits in the living room, so that other family members can make use of it... when I’m not home! When I’m nestled in the chair, it’s like being cocooned, suspended in a prolonged moment of bliss and relaxation. My older sister and her son dropped by the house one time, saw the shrouded Robot, and I told them to try it out, as both are discerning, long-time home service “addicts.” They were equally impressed, calling it the “next best thing to an actual massage;” promising to make full use of it on the nights they can’t book a masseur, and would be looking for a “quick fix.”

My two younger sons (I have three boys) also had their test run of the Robot and Luca, my youngest, and the wannabe stand-up comedian, declared it the “best seat in the house,” begging that he should have “priority booking” as he’s my son, and not a nephew!

And just what is it that makes this I-Rest massage chair so different? Well, for one, there’s the at-your-fingertips control panel that’s mounted on one of the armrests. There are six basic massage methods that one can opt for — shoulder grasping, kneading, tapping, shiatsu, kneading and flapping, and 3D. The chair operates on the principle of air compression bags strategically located so that besides the back and neck, your arms, legs and feet also get the benefits. There are automatic detection and micro adjustment functions that enable the chair to make adjustments once you are seated, being sensitive to each person’s body size. There are body curve and massage points so that waist twist, hip swing, and waist stretch can be programmed while the massage is going on. There is a back heating function, with carbon fiber as the infrared heating source; and the chair comes equipped with earphones, and a USB port MP3 player.

All this means that the chair is an effective “device” for reducing muscle tension and cramps, help ease stiffness and for some, can even help lower blood pressure and detoxify. While I know it’s far too easy to extol the virtues of the chair, paying lip service to its technical features; you really have to try the chair yourself, to understand how different it is from all other chairs I’ve tried in the past. In a practical sense, the company behind the chair took all the advances in technology, the amassed knowledge about massage therapy and acupressure, and found a way to incorporate all that information into this chair. With this Robot massage chair, I gladly place myself under “house I-Rest!”

Rock kids and dads

Two of the novels today take as their subjects the trajectory of a child pop star thrust into the mainstream music industry. What differs is the approach. While Lindqvist turns it into a modern-day Carrie/Charles Manson tale, Wayne’s is more of a docu-psychological snapshot. As for our third novel, it’s authored by no less than metal rock legend Rob Zombie.

Little Star by John Ajvide Lindqvist (available at National Book Store) Sweden’s answer to Stephen King, Lindqvist’s latest starts with an infant found in the forest by a retired Swedish pop star. Crying a pure E note, Lennart takes the baby, and the strange and macabre story begins. With no plausible way to explain her presence at their home, Lennart and Laila keep Theres in their basement. Then there’s a parallel story of Teresa, a moody, alienated child. When propelled by Theres joining Sweden’s Idol, the two girls are brought together, a sinister kinship is forged, bringing other like-minded adolescent girls to form a “gang.” The bullied and marginalized, child-rearing, and the entertainment industry, all fall under the spotlight of this disturbing tale.

The Love Song of Jonny Valentine by Teddy Wayne (available at National Book Store) Take an 11-year-old budding pop superstar (yes, one can imagine this would be Justin Bieber at the start of his career), have him managed by his single mother, and structure the novel as a chronicle of 21 days on tour. What the novel then neatly captures is an inside look into the star-making machinery, the price of fame, and how at the end of the day, 11-year-old pop superstars are still 11-year-old boys. He may be precocious in some things, but the onset of puberty has him tracking like any other unsure and insecure adolescent. His “quest” to meet his father is an arc that provides drama and pathos to the days on tour. Fascinating read!

The Lords of Salem by Rob Zombie (available at National Book Store) Zombie would have us regard him as the original hyphenate when it comes to heavy metal music, slasher films and all points in between. Musician/novelist/screenplay writer/director — it would seem Zombie wants to take on all hats, as this is the novel that his latest horror film is based on. After an introductory chapter set in 17th-century Salem and a witch trial, we fast-forward to the present day when the descendant of one of the witch hunters works as a DJ in a local radio station. Heidi Hawthorne becomes the target of a coven ready to bring about the “second coming” of a satanic sort, and wreak revenge on the town. Graphic, visceral, creepy, but a bit predictable.