Greg

I am sure that Greg is going to follow in his father's footsteps.

"Jos, we're losing tyre, we're losing lots of tyre. Try to make a move, try to make a move." "What do you think I'm doing, Greg?"

Greg has the grace of a swan, the wisdom of an owl, and the eye of an eagle. Ladies and gentlemen, this man is for the birds!

Greg the pastor asks, "What are you reading?" Nonong answers, "Do you know Le Guin? She’s a fantasy writer."

In the cafe, Greg the pastor asks, "What are you reading?" Viktor answers, "It is an Esperanto-French dictionary, an antique from 1936."

Texas Governor Greg Abbott urged residents, if possible, to shut off water to their homes, to prevent pipes from bursting and preserve water pressure in municipal systems.

The Journal also cites Chicago Tribune music writer Greg Kot, who said the phrase took hold in the '80s, and presumably gained a more negative connotation, among indie-rock fans "having their sneer at mainstream classic rock."

I've seen Greg incidentally at Starbucks café on Lulu Island for some years, but only today morning, on the 14th of August of 2022, we formally introduced to each other. He is a Filipino from Nueva Ecija, and he came to Canada at age 18 in 1977. He lived in Edmonton and Calgary in Alberta for some twenty years, then moved to here in BC. He is a devout Baptist Protestant, converted in Canada from Roman Catholicism, who carries his Bible to the café. I told him that when my father was alive, our house had Bible meetings for our Filipino Baptist community. I told Greg that I'm Buddhist. I talked to him about Buddhism and Daoism, this latter of which he knew little. I'm glad to meet a Filipino, like me, who came to Canada very young and has lived in Canada for a vaster period.

Some people think that Greg and I are like Filipino Hispanics. This Saturday morning on the 20th of August of 2022, Greg eats apple chips, and I salted potato chips with black iced tea, at the neighbourhood café. He mentions that he doesn't always go to church on Sunday, because maybe he feels down about life. We talk about the Philippines having mainly three blending peoples, Malays, Chinese, and Spanish. We wonder if most Filipinos really have Spanish and Chinese blood. Many Filipinos don't trace their genealogy. I mention to him that as one just lands at the Manila airport, one sees that the majority are really Malay-looking people. We talk about Jehovah's Witnesses and Mormons. I list some countries, in four continents, to which I've travelled, as it impresses him that I am a world traveller. Greg has only been to the Philippines, Canada, and USA. I assure him that my rich uncle in Oregon, who builds houses in the Philippines, doesn't want to go to Europe. Greg knows that I've lived in Japan and Europe, where I've learned the "walking life."

Greg and I, both Filipinos, talk at the Lulu Island café this morning of the 20th of August of 2022. I tell him of my visit to the dried mango factory estate owned by my friend's relatives in Cebu, Philippines. There was a big house near the expanses of the dried mango factory. There was a games house. The auntie looked like an affable Chinese Hispanic. My friends and I ate mangoes every day. I tell Greg of my stay in Japan, where I frequently took the trains and subways. He mentions "bullet trains." I tell him that the PRC now has bullet trains. I tell him of Spanish-looking classmates with very long full names in my private school of La Salle Green Hills in Metro Manila. My classmate Julio lived in a big Spanish-style mansion with a garden driveway through the middle front. That look inspired my childhood dream that I told my mother about a "big house on a lot with a highway in the middle on an island." Oh, maybe, it was from James Bond.