IT'S creepy sometimes how a great number of people think of the same thing.
Good friend Franciscan priest Fr. Prisco Cajes calls this cosmic unity.
That may explain a little why Picnic Grove in Tagaytay was like a mall on a fire day sale: the crowd was as thick as honey.
It was partly our fault, dumping Baguio as a holiday destination. I rejected the wife's choice since my thick skin can't bear that much coldness, especially during the month of Decembrrrr.
So we settled to go to the southernmost tip a day we thought majority of Filipinos would spend in Baguio City or at home since it was already after Christmas.
We traversed the uphill road on a two-vehicle convoy from Sta. Rosa, Laguna; the families of Aquino and Pitargue in tow.
Of course, since I'm sort of religious, I secretly stashed in the back compartment an icon to guide us in the travel back: five bottles of SanMig, of the pale kind. Warm, because it's chilly in Tagaytay, right? So who needs ice?
It was global warming up close and personal when we landed at the grove after lunch, what with too many warm bodies sharing with the horses limited square feet.
I kicked myself for bringing a thermal jacket; should've worn nothing instead and flashed the flabs nearly everyone in my family wants to pinch.
Leo's daughter Gabbs, Bhotskie's eldest Alyssa and second-born Jose, and my eldest Katha enjoyed the grass-covered and tree-laiden hills. I told them to take a hike, thanked me for it, and gladly did.
My youngest Ani and Grace's toddlers Zoei tried to follow but their near-teen sister and brother (Jose) had longer strides.
So the yaya had to bring them to the playground farther up where we adults plopped our fat asses on.
Good thing Grace brought a warmer where we had a tree-lined view of the zip-line and cable car stations.
The kids reported that despite the steep prices –a zip-line and cable car ride costs P250 per person each, the queue for each was as long as the queue of audience for a noon-time show.
I was told if you pay half, they'll throw in a rope so you can pull yourself up to where the ride began. I was told they were also offering it to cable car riders. No takers.
I was about to volunteer to pay for the kids at that price but I dropped the idea upon discovering Picnic Grove was charging a peso so I can piss in a hellhole they call a toilet.
I thought it was highway robbery so I just faced the wall along with other two-legged creatures, showered the earth and added to the yellowish pool already forming outside the WC. The scent of horse dung that wafted the air became more pleasant.
We didn't take the horse ride, which went from P350 an hour when we arrived to P200 when we decided to drive back.
It wasn't getting any cooler and the sun avoided giving us its slow dance home.
But that was what a hundred other guests were also thinking: go home.
So, as it was slow going up because of the traffic, it was also a snail pace going down.
Still, the kids seemed to have enjoyed the whole trip away from their handheld digital game stations and desktop access to the Internet.
I concur that the trip to Tagaytay, despite the absent nippy air, was a fabulous way to spend the day after Christmas and the anniversary of the party that advanced happiness and equality of the masses.
That day, cosmic unity or the absence of it, the masses were truly happy and equal.