Exodus of the TV, Toaster and Turntable

AS A teen, I knew our family was in dire financial straits judging from mom’s dwindling food stock and the exodus of our appliances to the buy-and-sell shop downtown. Even the well-loved and memorable swinging bench in Swing, Memory Swing (see February 2004 Archive) had to go.

As if things weren’t bad enough, my twenty-one year old eldest brother ran off with her girlfriend who was heavy with their first baby while another brother who wasn’t satisfied with the weed got high with another substance and got low with demeanor. Later on, even my little brother Mano—the family’s cute little Bunikol—got hooked with drugs even while still in high school.