Remembering A Good Man

Last Saturday I attended the memorial service of Mr. Joe Orosa. He was many things to many people, a banker, a builder, a statesman, a father, a husband, and a lot more, as he was always making himself available. To me, he was a mentor, someone who counseled and guided me, and helped me navigate my early years after university. We only really worked together for about 2 years, about as long as his battle with cancer, but my experience with him has benefited me so much and I would like to honor his memory.

Our interaction started when we worked together at the Real LIFE Foundation. Our founding board, Joe Orosa, Pastor Steve Murrell, Dr. Jun Escosar, Lynn Nawata (current executive director), and Joey Castro the founder of Real had just organized the foundation with Tito Joe (as he was known to us) serving as the first chairman, and I as executive director. I didn't know anything about running a scholarship program, much less a foundation. Fortunately, I found a lot of resources, both published and human, and I had available to me a supportive board. As chairman, Tito Joe wanted to be actively involved and would ask to see the plans and discuss it before presenting to the other members. One thing he stressed over and over again was the sustainability of our programs. Everything we were planning had to endure. Today, Tito Joe's contribution continues to live on through the Real LIFE Foundation. Only on its second fiscal year as a foundation, Real LIFE has assisted more than 150 scholars and is well positioned to continue to grow and help more people as it builds its first community center in Pasig and rolls out the LIFE Program. (LIFE stands for Leadership, Integrity, Faith, and Excellence).


The Philippine Tatler feature on the Real LIFE Foundation (Dr. Jun Escosar, me, Pastor Steve Murrell, Dr. Joey Castro, Lynn Nawata, and Joe Orosa)

Tito Joe was also in charge of the building program that built the Every Nation Building in Fort Bonifacio. Since they had upcoming projects that would also deal with donations, he would ask me to join meetings with donors, architectects, and contractors. Again, I knew I really would not be contributing much, if at all, but I understood my job was to learn and was grateful to him for opening the door.

The Every Nation Building in Fort Bonifacio

Tito Joe continued to meet with me even after Real LIFE. I had taken over what was once a very successful company that had been weighed down by the consequences of bad decisions. A complete restructuring was required, and I found myself in a familiar situation, again I found myself having to work on something I knew next to nothing about. I remember our first meeting, I was informing him that I would have to resign from Real LIFE to focus and needed advice regarding what to do with the banks. He quietly listened to the situation, digesting each fact, then proceeded to walk me through what had to be done. When he was satisfied that I had learned what he had to teach, he then talked to me about Real LIFE, the baby that had captured his heart. He talked about the career path public service offered someone like me, and he talked about the need to defeat poverty, and the need for people to rise up to serve. That's a good description of who Joe Orosa was, someone who rose by the sharpness of his mind and the excellence of his work but also someone who stooped to serve with a purity of heart so rare for a man with so much reason to be jaded.

The amazing thing was, as he did all of this, work on the foundation and building, his work with Studio 5, and even making time for me, Tito Joe had cancer. The cancer could not stop him though, it would only try to slow his body down. Even then, his mind was still running much faster than the rest.

He was an accountant so he understood the financial implication of everything, but he didn't value life using a calculator. More than the businesses, buildings, and organizations, Tito Joe was a builder of people.  Mentoring is not a series of lessons but a time of impartation. I thank God for people like Tito Joe, along with many others, who not only gave me their opinions, but set aside time for me. Growing up, I was always interacting with people much older than I am, and I have seen the contrast between seniors who are quick to load the next in line with rules and expectations and men like Tito Joe who understand that a cultivated person will surpass all goals and targets.

Looking back I realize his not so secret keys to success: a love for God and an unshakable faith. His love for God led him to love life and love people. His faith gave him the strength to live life fully and to show this love in different ways to hundreds of people.

Some people live for money, and amass fortunes they'll leave behind.
Some live for power, only to be swallowed whole.
Some live for fame, and rise simply to peak.
Some live for achievement, and wake up regretting the price they paid.
Some live to fall in love, over and over again, until they can no longer recognize what true love is.
Others live for adventure, which lasts only as long as the last thrill.
People live for a million things that mean temporary at best, for death ends all things.
But men like Tito Joe will live forever, in eternity and in our hearts, the people he's touched.

What Do I Really Need?

If you have any ideas let me know here.

Elasticity of Desire

First Thoughts
When I was a kid, maybe 9 or 10, I would buy a pack of candy for about P30.00, take it home, and sell them for P20.00 each to my younger brother. I used to wonder why he always bought them - even though he knew how much the whole pack cost (on other grocery trips he’d buy his own pack and still buy my pack at crazy prices). The few times he didn’t buy them was when he didn’t have any money, and even on those occasions, he was ready to borrow from his brother Shylock (my earliest experience of the world of money lending).

As I got older, I realized, it was not so much the cost that affected his decision, as much as the value he placed on candy. To my 7 - 8 year old brother, money didn’t mean anything, but the sweetness of sugar did. So it didn’t matter how much money it cost him, because in the end he got what he wanted.

Elastic and Inelastic
Fast-forward to my university days studying Economics. We’re talking about the price elasticity of demand.

Note: In economics, the price elasticity of demand is an elasticity that measures the nature and degree of the relationship between changes in quantity demanded of a good and changes in its price.

So the idea here is, when goods are very elastic, small changes in price affect the quantity demanded greatly. Example, when the price of X goes up, the demand for X goes down since less people can afford it or are willing to spend so much for it. Good are considered inelastic when the quantity demanded does not change much with the price.

To Joshua, my younger brother, the relationship between candy and it’s cost was inelastic. Changes in the cost did not change his demand for candy.

The Secret to Happiness?
One thing I never understood when I was younger, was that no matter how much I cheated my brother on the price, and no matter how much money I made at his expense, he never seemed to care. He was happy with his candy.

Looking back I wonder, had my brother discovered the secret to happiness? And, like him, have I found something that makes the cost, no matter how much it gets, seem negligible?

Desire is inelastic. So what do I desire?

Joe's Tamaraw

I wrote this on December 19, 2006. I was 22 years old at the time, about a year after graduating college. So his Tamaraw is actually 14 years old already.

Joe's Tamaraw
My older brother, Joseph, drives an 11yr. old Tamaraw FX (and he drives it like a virgin Ferrari). It’s so old that there was a time he stopped locking the doors since he didn’t think anyone would steal it anyway. We had it appraised and found out it was worth a Big Mac and a stick of gum - just one stick! (Ok, that’s exagerated. But you get the picture.)

Memories
But what would seem of little worth to many people, is our treasured Tamaraw. When you’re 22 years old, and you’ve had a car for 11 years (half my life!), you just get attached. Here are my top memories of Joe’s Tamaraw:

1. When we nearly died tumbling on the Edsa-Buendia overpass because Joe was driving at over a hundred on the curve - When the car settled down, Joe was hanging on top of me by his seatbelt and we had to crawl out the windshield. The roof was sunk, all the windows were crashed, and even the spare tire exploded, but Joe and I were completely untouched other than a glass bit on my leg and a sprained neck. Now here’s the best part, Joe hugged me as soon as I got out. (AWWWW) That’s the first time he ever hugged me. (AND THE LAST!) I called my dad and told him we got into a “small” accident. He gave me an english lesson on the word “small” when he saw the wreck. What I forgot to say was that it was “small” compared to the 1906 San Francisco Earthquake. Oh well, miscommunication.

2. Joe learning to drive while visiting our lots in Forest Hills, Antipolo - I wouldn’t call the Tamaraw the ultimate golfer’s car or something for the country club, but I sure had fun watching Joe learn to drive on hills in that thing. Thank God for engine breaks.

3. When I nearly had a date - took this car to school, the Ateneo (don’t forget “the”), which is a school known for it’s selflessness and being poor in spirit (hard to be sarcastic without the tone), and a friend asked if she could ride with me. I found this weird because she has drivers, but strangely they’re all named “Manong”… Anyway… So by this time the Tamaraw was so shot up that it shook like crazy when you turned the ignition, and the A/C spit black water out at the front seat passenger. So walking to the car she asked me, “Do you want to have dinner first?” I said sure. She’s a pretty girl and smart too (a pretty AND smart female is not the same as a pretty smart one), and I was hungry so why not? A few seconds in the shaking spitting Tamaraw, and here’s what she said next, “I’m kinda tired. Mind if you drop me home straight?” I should have had a secret camera focused on her. It’s safe to say that ended her infatuation with me.

4. Joe’s MacBook gets stolen - Joe locks his doors now. Enough said.

Of Course There's a Lesson Somewhere
So I’ve realized that the things that mean most to me are not the most expensive things, but neither are they cheap. They go beyond monetary and economic valuations. At the end of the day fulfillment is not found in being able to obtain the priciest things, but in discovering that what you have is priceless.