Do’s and Don’ts in Era of New Poverty

I read this in today's issue of PDI and decided to share it here...

***

By Thelma Sioson San Juan
Philippine Daily Inquirer

IN my gym/club, I’ve gotten used to this regular distraction: a national politician in his middle age (thus not infirm or decrepit) comes with security entourage, from motorcycle escorts, back-up cars (plural) to bodyguards.

As he works out, the security detail stands by. After workout, the factotum brings in our politician’s personal stuff, from shirt to socks (undies, too, we presume) and shoes—and helps him get dressed. All this logistical/security support for a fitness workout!

Don’t even try to imagine what other logistics our politicians can’t live without.

Trappings of power are nothing new; they’ve come with the territory for ages. But, in the Philippines, at no time has their display been more obnoxious than they are now.
Perhaps it’s because our era has seen the end of our sense of decency, decorum and delicadeza (and you thought the Martial Law era was bad).

Bodyguards, police escorts are ubiquitous—whether at the golf course (remember the front-page news?), church, hotel, hospital, school, malls, you name it, they’re there at the beck and call of our public servants. Stuck in a bumper-to-bumper traffic in Edsa, you’re stewing in your car and hear the oppressively shrill wang-wang of a big shot’s siren escort (ambulance, you don’t mind) signaling the rest of the motorists to make way for the majestic entourage—as if there’s an extra yard of road to maneuver in.

So why can’t they go through traffic like everybody else? Either that or they fly off Edsa.
That brings us to what is most uncool in these hard times,

and the don’ts:

That wang-wang. Kill it. Such contraptions are for life-and-death situations, not for when you’re late for your ribbon-cutting or your “afternoon delight.”

Don’t wear your bodyguard like you do your Cartier. We remember tax deductions from our salaries every time we see bodyguards. Don’t “brandish” bodyguards, who, in turn, shouldn’t brandish guns.

Don’t wear your power. A wise, powerful editor once told us, if you really have power, you don’t need to show it. Showing off is tacky in these humbling times, or at any time.

Don’t display your wealth. Ostentatiousness is so nouveau. Hidden wealth is best kept hidden, because every time we see signs of it, we feel bad for our country, our children and our children’s children.

Don’t believe your own press release (especially if you wrote it yourself). People buying their own hype is today’s tragedy.

Don’t max out your credit card. An aunt, who worked her way up the corporate ladder (mining industry at that) and who died rich—and who didn’t believe much in credit cards—told us: Don’t spend money you still have to earn.

Don’t be a “brand junkie.” Being a sucker for brands is so yesterday.

The do’s:

Work, work. To be idle rich is bad enough, to be idle poor is pathetic—and bad for your cholesterol level. Work ethic? That seems like a thing of the past to today’s generation.

Be honest, even as you buy fake brands. Authenticity is not a brand. It is character.
Acquire the taste, not necessarily the brand.

Read. Not just lip-read.

Invest wisely. Not in business necessarily, but in people and relationships. Nurture a talent. That investment is long-term.

Help yourself to some food for the soul.

Even if you can’t be rich, be real.

Find true religion. That’s not a jeans brand. It’s religion.