Adorable readers, you’ve probably heard the song “White Line Fever,” written and sung by Merle Haggard, American country folk singer.
In Cordillera hinterlands, the song was made popular by the late Joel Tingbaoen, husband of Benguet Vice-Governor Florence Tingbaoen.
Joel Tingbaoen, who sang White Line Fever in his own distinct and melodious voice, was called this year by the mightiest Creator to come over and also sing his songs in the Happy Singing Grounds in the Sky.
Joel left a legacy of his many songs (White Line Fever among them) that continue to reverberate within voice boxes of many Cordillerans, who – try as they might – imitate his style, while remembering their very own, Joel Tingbaoen, who hailed from Mankayan, Benguet.
Parts of the song say, “. . . White line fever/ The years keep flying by like highland poles/ The wrinkles in my forehead/Show the miles I’ve put behind me/They continue to remind me/How fast I’m growing old. . .”
What does white line fever means? It simply denotes hairs turning grey, to white. It simply means our skin, once smooth, then, with mirth and laughter, let wrinkles come.
So it was last Monday about noon, this daily laborer of no importance unobtrusively slipped into Bontoc, Mountain Province for a short pow-wow with a friend before returning the same day to Baguio City.
Finished consulting with the Bontoc friend, he rested his heels for a while near the Mountain Province provincial capitol and contemplated on mortals passing by.
Contemplation of the works of Someone higher than humans affords some purest pleasures of the human mind. Gazed upon as workmanship of the one true Creator, anyone can gaze at a co-human with mingled admiration and awe.
And in admiring humans, you find one flaw that escapes no one: the wrinkles of life.
Distracting, to say the least, when gazing before the mirror and spotting greying or whitening hair on the head, we sigh, “I’ve passed youth, now in middle age, or approaching golden years.”
During youth, hope sprung eternal of life’s mountain as we ascended, singing songs of the new generation.
We’ve tested our sinews and muscles, and know what we can do – and how far we can do it. At least we look as fools if we don’t.
In youth, we had joy, fun and seasons in the sun and no wrinkles to gripe about.
Be you Ilocano or Cordilleran, we made our language crinkle with laughter. And what we did to the English language would have made our English teachers squirm, and laugh, as well.
In heyday of youth, we made our own English-Ilocano dictionary. For example:
Antique – kabsat ni mama; decipher – saan a dibotones; ravine – limneken ti init; begotten – panag-imukat manen; Who – pagpasardeng ti nuang; about – nauneg nga banag; stone – agsardeng kan; – show – agbugaw ti manok; shock – saan nga sika; cotton – babassit nga agkarkarayam, among others.
By way of Mother Nature, who has fine wrinkles around her mouth, she always sends the young generation onwards, full of hope.
Going by adulthood, we discovered roads over which we were fated to trod on were more than half accomplished, and at every bend, the scenery was surely becoming sober towards grooved journeys.
Each to his/her own, deciding what work to pursue, as the wrinkles of maturity begin to set.
The work list is endless. To be, or not to be, as the creases on the brow show where the smiles have been.
So, to be a doctor, nurse, engineer, soldier, policeman, businessperson, entrepreneur, social worker, teacher, firefighter, information officer, news reporter, daily laborer, lawyer, clergyman, etcetera?
In short, every mortal must start unobstructed and work out the wrinkles of life.
By way of Mother Nature, with her hands furrowed with Time, she wants us on our way to graceful calling (work).
Talking about work, let us crease our thoughts for a moment about lawyering where many are called, but few are chosen.
A lawyer’s job is a public trust. While many profess they want to hate lawyers, you have yet to meet a parent who didn’t want their children to become lawyers.
This heathen of daily labor has a lawyer friend who once represented in court a complainant whose pig was said to be stolen.
In the course of examination, the judge, wrinkled-wise, asked the lawyer of the aggrieved party, “what did the defendant say when the police caught up with him?”
Complainant’s lawyer: “Your Honor, the defendant said he took the pig as a joke.”
Judge: “And, pray, how far did he carry the joke?”
Complainant’s lawyer: “Your Honor, the defendant carried the joke exactly three kilometers and a half away from the pig pen of the complainant.”
It’s a business of a lawyer to be ready-witted. That’s what happened to another lawyer-friend from La Union who was teaching law in college.
One day, he entered the classroom and found out his law student have had the temerity of conspiring to put a tied monkey on his table.
Instead of wrinkling his eyebrow in consternation, this lawyer-friend calmly said to his students, “Arrah! My dear students, I understand you have this competent instructor. Hence, I therefore leave you to your studies.”
Another two lawyer friends, nearly had their friendship crinkled while eating breakfast in a restaurant at Session Road, Baguio City.
While eating, two women, one in red skirt and the other in black pants entered and talked to the proprietor.
One of the lawyers said to the other, “Do you happen to know that ugly woman in black pants?”
The other lawyer spoken to said, “That woman, panyero, is my sister.”
“Oh, dear,” said the lawyer who said “ugly” to the woman in pants. Now confused, he said, “You mistake me, I mean the shabby-looking old hag in red skirt.”
The other lawyer puckered his face and growled, “That, you fool of a lawyer, is my very own wife. And you better crumple your odd picture of people, eh!”
Indeed, indeed, it has been said again and again that life is a picture and scenes continuously altering.
We embark on childhood, leave it, then youth is upon us. The youth ripens to adulthood. This is the time we realize that our children are crinkling their noses and smelling the prospect of getting married.
That’s when we know we are getting wrinkled. When children talk about marriage, sure as the sun sets, we’ve entered the pleasing part of old age where Cupid no longer flutter over our heads as they do to our children.
Reaching such age, one feels little to astonish and maybe more to delight. Seamed and wrinkled, the imaginative mortal of old age possesses keen delights of earlier times, swelling in memory’s chamber, waiting to be recalled.
Having earned our wrinkles, you can please yourself even in spite of thyself.
Come whatever be mind’s intolerance, we, in wrinkled age will find medicine for it, medicine for grouchy neighborhood, inclement weather, chronic disorder, gout, arthritis, lawsuit, drunken husbands, scolding wives, protracted remittances, bills due to be paid, to name a few.
And talking about due bills to be paid, our wrinkles laugh at us for having no fondness about “Judith.”
Ammok nga addo kadakayo ti pirmi agkuretret muging na panggep busor yu kenni Judith.
Ngamin, makapakuretret nu Judith (due date) ti panagbabayad ti kuryente, Judith ti renta ti balay, Judith ti panagbabayad ti danum. . .Haay, Judith, pangaasim, aguray ka bassit.
