Makati Mayor Elenita Binay -- and the real "mastermind" of the McKinley Road-Forbes Park "rezoning" plot, Metro Manila Development Authority Chairman Jejomar Binay -- should scrap that weird scheme to "commercialize" the frontage of that vital artery. Why on earth should they bully their way through to subjecting McKinley and its environs to crass commercialism when there's so much land available for that purpose in next-door Bonifacio "city"?
The Makati City Council, everybody knows, is under heavy pressure by Boss Jojo and Doctora to approve a so-called "rezoning" ordinance, whatever sort of "discussion" and "debate" is being put up as a smokescreen.
Why? Revenge against the rich? Why, Jojo Baby, you've already joined the ranks of the rich. In any event, don't the "wealthy" pay taxes, just as the poor are supposed to do, and therefore aren't they entitled to equal protection of the law? Fight the proletarian "revolution" elsewhere, guys. The mahirap and the masa need the upper middle class and the wealthy: it's a mutual relationship. After all, jobs have to be created and maintained, salaries have to be paid, enterprises need the investments of those with money in the bank, whether local or foreign. So, let's get real.
There's too much media hype and gutter-talk about the "perfumed" ladies and the uppercrust set from Barangay Forbes Park having to demonstrate, protest, and rally against the "rezoning" plan. Why shouldn't they? They're citizens, aren't they?
Scratch any poor man or woman and you'll find somebody who's just raring to become rich. This used to be called by economists in the old days as "the divine discontent" which prompts people to strive, to learn, acquire an education, work long hours, and put their imagination to work, so they can "get ahead."
Politicians' hand-outs and giveaways (not religion) are the opium of the people, with no apologies to that German rabbi's son, Karl Marx who wrote his bitter Das Kapital, the unholy bible of Communism, in his chilly coldwater flat in London and in the equally chilly precincts of the British Museum. The poor would better be helped by free education (as in good public schools, subsidized by the taxes of the "earning" class) and opportunity. I can tell you this because we grew up in a postwar shanty (our family had lost everything during World War II, including my father who was the breadwinner). My brothers and sisters, and this writer, were working students from grade school, through high school, to university.
We belonged, from the standpoint of sheer sweat, to the "working" class.
So what if the "perfumed" residents of Forbes Park are protesting? Why, we couldn't afford classy "scents" in our younger days and the "lifesaver" during our high school parties was Mennen shaving lotion. (Even the Philippine Military Academy cadets, as snappy in their dress-grays as any West Point heartthrob, were just average kids from the provinces (promdi), so they used the same cheap lotion and were scoffed by their jealous civilian rivals as the "Mennen Shave Lotion" boys. As generals, they wouldn't be caught dead smelling of Mennen -- which seems to have gone out of style, anyway -- on the golf course or wherever else they play their War Games.)
However, the most compelling argument of all isn't even the sentimental plea that we must save those 60-year old, leafy acacia trees that line McKinley road and the other green blocks of Forbes Park, North and South. (Although the prospect of bulldozing those attractive oxygen-producing trees is appalling.) It's common sense. McKinley Road today is already mired in heavy traffic and pollution at almost any time of day and long into the night. If commercial buildings and other enterprises should go up there, can you imagine the chaos and frustration among workaday commuters? It would result not merely in gridlock but in complete paralyzation.
As a matter of fact, the Makati Council and Malacañang as well ought to build a skyway over that darned road, or (as the late Monching del Rosario Sr., a visionary, used to suggest) a "double-decker highway" so as to unclog the traffic.
If Forbes Park residents, then, don't want passing motorists or bus drivers and passengers to take a peek into their bathroom or bedroom windows, they can just wall those apertures up, and open up the "other side." There's a compromise available to such a situation.
In the meantime, that demented "rezoning" plot should be junked. It helps no one, except greedy developers (in cahoots with you-know-what big shots?). It won't serve the public good. Just call off the fireworks, boys and gals, and call it a draw.
It's disgraceful how public safety, for that matter, is neglected in this country. If Africa during the 19th- century era of exploration and colonization used to be called the "Dark Continent" (no reference to racial pigmentation), Metro Manila looks like Darkest Africa after sunset.
There are very few street lamps even on EDSA, our main national highway, and as far as access roads and sidestreets are concerned, the street posts have only flickering, weak bulbs to illumine a few meters around, and -- to make it worse -- are too far apart.
Is this supposed to save money for our national and local governments? I thought that civilized communities are organized to guarantee and give priority to public convenience and safety. The alibi for failure is that funds are not available. Yet, when there is a party or fiesta, somehow our local officials suddenly find the funds.
We are, moreover, a metropolis choking to death on our own pollution. Never mind garbage, which is bad enough. Traffic gridlock is what generates the poisonous fumes that make daily living hell not only on the road but in the home. No wonder so many are falling ill from throat and lung diseases, allergies, and even cancer. And yet, 10- to 15-year old buses, smokebelchers (whose belches are visible in billowing clouds of smoke, but are not challenged by traffic aides and policemen) are still permitted by an uncaring government to go their merry way. It's high time we sent those rolling coffins to where they belong -- the scrap heap. This lament of mine is a broken record, always falling on deaf ears, I have to say.
Let's get down to a specific instance of how stupid neglect almost cost one of my business partners his life.
Businessman Joey Tirona, the president of PBJ Ventures and other enterprises, is -- or, maybe I should clarify, was -- a motorcycle fanatic. Joey dearly loved his motorcycle, a shining, powerful BMW. Not long ago, he was one of the organizers of a new motorcycle club, the BMW Owners Society, jauntily called in acronym, "BOSS."
Last January 28, a Friday, the BOSS members were scheduled to take a group "ride" to Bicol. Since the event was being sponsored by Shell, the rendezvous point was to be the Shell Magallanes station.
Here's Tirona's own story: "I left my house (in Greenmeadows) at 4 a.m. so as to be at Shell Magallanes by 4:30 a.m. I took the C-5, going there via the service road leading to Villamor Airbase. I had taken this same road the preceding Wednesday, Jan. 26, and there had been no obstructions and, in fact, the road had been newly paved."
What happened, Joey found to his sorrow later, was that in the interim some workmen had dug up a portion of that road, about 300 meters from the junction of C-5 and the East Service road.
"They just left the old cement blocks that they unearthed piled up on the road, without any lights or warning," Joey mourned. "Since it was 4:30 a.m., just before dawn, the road was dark and unlit. I just didn't expect to come on a pile of cement blocks on the road. I wasn't even going fast, simply tooling along, but I didn't have any time to swerve or brake. I went flying the moment I hit the pile. I blacked out. I don't even know how I flew, or in which direction my motorcycle careened. The next thing I remember was that there were two guys pulling me to stand up. I wanted to call up my son, Carlo, who was supposed to be following me in a back-up car, but it turned out later he had taken the EDSA way to Magallanes. I staggered about looking for my cellphone. Then one of the good samaritans asked me if I wanted to call anyone. I asked him to ring up my son, Carlo, on his cellphone. He arrived a few minutes later and took me to the Makati Medical Center."
What actually happened was that Tirona was knocked out when he struck the ground. (Luckily, he had always been careful to wear his crash helmet, as regulations require. It was crushed out of shape, as was his motorcycle, but that helmet saved Joey's life). In the five to ten minutes in which he was unconscious, though, Tirona lost his cellphone, his wallet and his watch. He doesn't want to think the "good samaritans", who remain unknown, took them. Yet, who knows who were waiting around in the dark for an unwary motorist or bike-rider to come along?
"I had landed on my right shoulder about 15 feet from the point of contact. My bike had flown about 20 feet from the point of impact. I'm really lucky the bike hadn't landed on me."
At the Makati Medical Center, doctors took his x-rays, head scans, etc. Tirona had broken his collarbone and his arm. He is going around with his arm painfully in a sling.
"I am on my second lease in life," he thankfully says. "I have hung up my riding gloves and the experience has taught me it's time to stop riding motorcycles. I've had my years of fun, but it's a warning that I must give up taking such 'sporting' risks."
"The only regret I have," Joey asserts, "is that there were no warning signs or lights to alert motorists of the portion of the road in disrepair. It must be required of all contractors to put up warning signs. In this country, it's always the consumers and citizens who must watch out for themselves. The government does not care for the riding and commuting public. I'm sure we have guidelines and laws designed to protect the riding public's safety. But these are not enforced. Our Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH) simply does not implement those rules. What happened to me just shows you how tough life is here in this part of the world. Imagine, people being so ghoulish as to rip off your belongings while you're lying unconscious, not caring whether you're dying or badly injured! It's a dog-eat-dog world out here. For me, it's a lesson learned the hard and painful way. As they always shrug, 'Charge it to experience'!"
The sad part of it is that Joey Tirona, ten years ago, was a successful young businessman living in San Francisco, California. He gave up his "stateside" enterprises and "green card" status to come home to our country because he was confident we are, truly, The Land of Promise.
There are a lot of "promises" all right. But have those pledges, made by our leadership and our government, been fulfilled?