It’s showtime, again

THE PREPARATIONS were three years in the making and now is the start for the beginning of a new career for rookies and a contract extension for veterans.  Individual prospects align with newly formed teams or get retained by their mother teams and their farm teams but at the end of the day, majority of these teams gets allied to the team with the most and the best resources.

Every three years, the country engages in its most expensive yet favorite game where contestants, a merry mix of the geriatric and the pediatric, run and vie for the more than 18,000 positions available in this coming May’s mid-term elections.  Up for the taking are 12 positions for senators down to almost 12,000 spots for municipal councilors.

Long before the fireworks and the noise welcomed the dawn of the new year, the cities and provinces of this island republic already had their ears and eyes full of the promises (always meant to be unfulfilled) coming from these aspirants. Their intentions, mostly self-serving, were laid out and there is no greater evil than someone or anyone who contradicts what comes out of their mouths.

There are guidelines that are supposed to be followed and an institution that’s supposed to implement these regulations.  But not to the surprise of the nation, they had merely become suggestions because since as long as I can remember, individuals with political dreams, specifically those who have the questionable resources and are close to the high and the mighty, already had their propaganda machineries in motion since at least a year ago. There never was a clear attempt from the commission to penalize nor disqualify a contestant from the race because of stepping out of bounds.  No harm no foul.

One senatorial aspirant had a fixation on shoes.  In more than one instance, the shoe guy took off the shoe he was wearing and gave it to someone in a publicity stunt.  As if he really went home barefoot.   Then, limited edition basketball sneakers bearing his name were custom manufactured in two color ways.  A recent stunt had him removing his shirt and showing off his back that badly needs a vigorous body scrubbing.

Another stunt had, as one Cebu opinion writer described as “four desperately struggling senatorial candidates” attempted to sail without really the intentions of doing so to the disputed Spratlys to erect a PH flag.  Other candidates upped the ante by funding construction of multi-purpose courts and buildings, giving away four-wheeled and two-wheeled vehicles aside from the regular t-shirts, umbrellas, caps, fans, pens and notebooks.

This contest knows no inhibitions or relations.  It could be war among families pitting siblings against each other, or uncles or aunts running against nieces or nephews, cousins clawing each other, friends versus friends all for the lust of ego and power.

There are few exceptions to the normal, or more likely the rarity to the lunacy.  These are the runners whose intentions are true, without regard to whether they finish the race first or last so long as they had made their purposes clear.

The 45-day marathon began two Sundays ago and the cities and countryside are now wrapped in posters bearing their smiling faces and mostly silly slogans.  The contestants are in for an exhausting and equally expensive race that starts in the morning and could end up to very late at night.  The daytime routine is mostly interacting with the populace – handshaking, backslapping, maybe hugging just so they would make the people feel and look like their concerns are heard.  Concerns which include but not limited to financial needs from the cradle to the grave and everything and anything related to human existence and survival, be it real, imagined or manufactured.

Because it is summer in this part of the world, school is out and naturally, sports and recreational activities abound.  Contestants to the race become favorite milking cows for teams of actual sports to help them in their “pursuit of fitness and well-being of the youth” through sponsorship of uniforms and athletic equipment.

The night comes alive during rallies where these racers discuss their platforms of governance and then cuss and belittle their adversaries often bordering on the libelous.  The highlight of the night will be some song and dance numbers from candidates better off seen in TV bloopers.  Of course, the crowd always gets thrilled when they see their favorite candidate sing or dance.  Just imagine someone with a 40-inch waist trying to twerk.

32 more days until the race dust will have settled and until then, let’s enjoy their version of showtime.

Hala bira!

(Reactions welcome at bobby_motus@yahoo.com or bobbymotus1961@gmail.com)/PN

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