Home in LA

PR 102 landed on time, 6:30pm to the dot, November 23. No more jokes on PAL meaning Plane Always Late.
Breezed through Immigration, the officer looking bored, uninterested with the perfunctory “How long do you intend to stay?” barely audible through his nose.
The response: “Two weeks at the most, sir” meriting successive thumps on my travel documents which he handed to me with the also perfunctory, “Welcome to Los Angeles.”
Straight to Carousel 6 to get my baggage. A long wait, the machine rolling hundreds of luggage, boxes, bags, when from the PA system emanated: “Philippine Airlines passenger Caesar Lacson, please report to Dock 50.”
My chest sagged, what wrong did I do?
I hastened to where I was directed to, finding Board Member Trina Dizon waving at me. I got the surprise of my life when who could be interviewing her but my best friend in the seminary – Flong Bundalian of Mabalacat, snappy in his black uniform. We had a hearty laugh and hugged.
LAX was jampacked, a number of flights from all over the world landing immediately one after the other. The queue to the exits was long and thick. A most reassuring sight was my Uncle Vic Bondoc waiting right at the end of the incline at the end of the exit hall.
At the coffeeshop sat Gov. Lilia “Nanay Baby” Pineda waiting for all the mayors who came in with her, let’s count them now: Mylyn Cayabyab, Lubao; Eddie Guerrero, Floridablanca; Katoy Naguit, Minalin; Romy Pecson, Magalang; Peter Flores, Masantol, Annette Balgan, Macabebe; Chito Espino, Arayat; now, was Porac’s Carling de la Cruz with us?
Anyways, after reporting for duty to the Gov, we took our leave and drove home to Carson City, CA, but a 20 minute drive from LAX.
Apu Soleng, all of 95, the last of my maternal grandmother’s generation, is the grand matriarch of the Pineda-Canlas clan of Sto. Tomas, Pampanga. Any trip to the U.S. of any member of our clan will be wanting, much wanting, without paying her a visit.
Ah, how the grand dame sheds tears of joy at each encounter with her brood!
Coming in time for Thanksgiving Day made this visit replete with meaning. The last time I had Thanksgiving with her was in 2000 when I sought temporary sanctuary here in the wake of the ambush on Roy David that killed three of our support staff in Pulitika Atbp. over dwGV.
Thanksgiving dinner was at the Bundalians, in-laws of my Uncle Vic, his dear departed wife Tita Choy sister to my friend Flong. We had a laugh anew at the LAX incident and a grand time reminiscing over our Mater Boni days.
And then came Black Friday.
For those not-in-the-know, Black Friday is day after Thanksgiving Day, the last Thursday of November.
So what’s all that to-do about Black Friday? It’s the day of days for shoppers, aye, the shopaholics’ very grand prix.
Specials known as “doorbuster” – the in term for the now passe “early bird” – offer as much as 70 percent discounts on all items, be they laptops, netbooks and cameras from Best Buy, shoes and apparels at Macy’s or JC Penny, shirts and pants from Old Navy and Gap – so sorry Deo Sambilay, there’s no Abercrombie & Fitch here in Carson City – pampering stuff from Bath and Body, and just about everything at Wal Mart.
Right after Thanksgiving dinner – with the stuffed turkey, but of course taking the centerpiece at the heavily laden table – the parking lots of malls and stores spawn mini tent cities, with sleeping-bagged over-eager shoppers wanting to be the first in line on opening time, this time made earlier at midnight.
No simbang bengi (dawn Masses) but shopping ganingaldo (before daybreak), witticized my uncle Vic Bondoc, long time resident here as we drove past Target teeming with as much tents as cars.
Right on the dot, 5 a.m. of S-Day, that’s for Sales, or Stampede, dummy, off we rushed to Best Buy for an Asus tablet advertized at $249.99 and an HP netbook tagged $250. Alas and alack, the whole store was awash in sweatered humanity, all in search of the best bargain. The lines to the cash registers choked in traffic of stainless steel carts laden with boxes of all sizes – from small – for the I-Pods and netbooks, to the gargantuan – for the 75” HD television sets.
Empty handed – the last of our desired items gone in 15 minutes after opening time – we repaired to Wal Mart only to find the laptop shelves cleaned up, and ended up getting burritos and coffee at the on-site McDonald’s for breakfast. No there was no sale at McDo, I was told.
It was more of the same chaos at Target, and at Macy’s and JC Penny – shopping, shopping, shopping as though there was no tomorrow.
For poor me though, it was all looking, looking, looking. What little dollars I had I kept tightly bound inside my pocket, afraid that if I loosened but a single Benjamin, I would as easily lose everything.
So, but for four sets of lotions from Bath and Body – for my three girls and the wife, there was nothing to show for my bargain journey. Yeah, it was even my cousin Remy Manese-Bondoc vacationing here from Edmonton, Canada that paid for those preening stuff.
No Black Friday bargains at Costco Wholesale but the place is as full-packed as the other sales havens. In the many times I’ve done the USA, Costco invariably makes my personal drug pusher, whence sourced my supply of Centrum Silver multi-vitamins, natural vitamin E and fish oil in capsules. Yeah, I freeloaded here too with my Uncle Vic swiping his Costco and Visa card.
Yeah, this is what I wrote in 2006 on an extended US trip as the “relativity of travel.” More than the destinations, it is relatives that make travel really fulfilling. For they provide all the comforts of home.