THE NAME GAME
I've been receiving comments on my websites, asking about my true identity. It seems the term "newsbabe", which I fashioned to alter the more frumpy-sounding "newshen", has titillated it's own share of mildly curious readers. Well, to set the record straight, I am now dishing the dirt on Prada Mama, the gabby newsbabe behind Pansitan.net's "87 GENTLE STREET" and "The Prada Mama Chronicles".
First of all, I would like to officially declare my disdain for the word "newshen", which conjures up images of fat, dumpy, bespectacled women behind typewriters. Whoever coined this term deserves to be shackled to a noisy teletype machine. I much prefer the title "news personality", thank you.
It was a chance encounter at the UP sunken garden which determined my destiny: I was walking to our "Home", the sorority house of UP Delta Lambda Sigma, when I bumped into a fellow-Deltan, Coco Quisumbing, who was then the sexy voice behind "Coco Q" of RK96-FM. After the prescribed beso-beso, she asked me if I was interested in her job because she was moving to another radio station in Cebu. Coco would later become my best friend in the world among other things, CNBC Asia news anchor included, but that's another story.
I can't believe I was only 17 when it all began. I started out by doing radio news, completing my on-air training in RK96 and 101.1 KISS-FM in the mid-80's before doing newscasting for FM stations like NU-107 and 99.5 RT. In radio circles, I was known by the name "Rima", my real-life nickname.
After five years in radio, I decided I had mustered up enough confidence to try my luck at TV newscasting. I auditioned for, and was accepted as weekend news anchor for RPN News. My new boss at the time, Channel 9's Frank Abao, decided he preferred my baptismal name, "Renee", because it sounded more formal. Not too many people agreed. Korina Sanchez, who was one of the first people I called after landing the job, said she preferred "Rima" because "Renee" sounded too much like "a model's name", but it was my boss' opinion that counted, so I made my television debut under the name "Renee de los Santos".
So there I was, at the young age of 21, finally doing Gulf War updates alongside my former news idols, Harry Gasser, and of course, my sorority "sis", Coco Quisumbing. Even though I was officially hired as weekend news anchor, I was often called to pinch-hit during the week, co-anchoring with Charlie Ysmael and Kathy Santillan. It was also a source of our sorority's pride that aside from Coco and me, another Deltan was in Channel 9's news lineup: Cielo Villaluna, whom I would later join in anchoring "NewsWatch EveningCast".
When I first started at RPN News, I was known by my maiden name, de los Santos. After a couple of years, I left for the States, Canada and Europe, taking a three-year hiatus to get married and raise a family. When I returned in late 1995, I was blessed to regain my weekend anchor position almost immediately. By then, I was known by my married name, Renee Caplan. In a couple of months, another RPN news anchor, Cristina Peczon, would resign from her post, relinquishing the plum prime-time co-anchor seat to me!
I couldn't believe my luck. I had gone full-circle, from radio neophyte, to TV ingenue, to relative obscurity as a young wife and mother abroad, and finally, a triumphant return as co-anchor of Channel 9's "NewsWatch EveningCast"!
Our show was the only English newscast in its time slot, so most of our viewers were expats and the AB crowd. However, when RPN's former GM-turned Congressman Jose Mari Gonzalez, scheduled the Mexican telenovela "Marimar" after our show, we managed to grab a monster share of the viewing market, even besting "TV Patrol" at one point. ABS-CBN soon became savvy, adding other Thalia starrers to their lineup, and we were once again relegated to high-brow obscurity.
My ex-husband and I ended up divorcing after six years of marriage, but I kept on using the name Caplan. However, by the time I left Channel 9 to go back to the States for good, I was already known by my present name, Renee Sereno. By then, I had met and fallen in love with my present husband, Lorenzo, (aka Lapu-lapu, see "About"), and we were going to the States to have our baby, Lance. In October 1999, I filed for maternity leave from RPN News and never returned.
After Lance was born, I decided to try my hand at broadcasting here in the U.S.. I was blessed to be hired as stand-in producer and anchor of "The Filipino Report", a daily newscast produced by KTSF-TV26 in San Francisco. The show was geared toward the Filipino market in the Bay Area, and it received heavy viewership due to its time slot between "TV Patrol" and "Balitang K". Looking back, it now strikes me as ironic that the first time I ever produced and delivered a newscast in Tagalog was when I finally moved to the US.
So there you have it, a brief glimpse into Prada Mama's persona, and her many names that go with it. These days, I am simply known as "Mommy", (or as Lorenzo sometimes teases me, "Preggy"), content to while away my days at home in Modesto, CA, away from the lights, cameras and wire services. My life now revolves around my husband, our two boys, Lance and Troy, and our rescue Pit Bull, Spot. Together, we await the arrival of our newest family member, our first daughter, Reanna Loren, who will be ready for her close-up around June 4.
Of course, Lapu-lapu, the other half of this on-cam partnership, has his own stories to tell, but I will leave that for another time. Suffice it to say that my husband is the more recognizable of us two, having played the muscle-bound lead in a very popular commercial, uttering five words which would etch themselves into the threads of Filipino popular culture:
"Don't forget the muffins ha?"
(MORE SUGGESTED READING: TALES FROM THE NEWSROOM.)
Wednesday, February 25, 2004
THE SWEETEST TABO
I have a shocking confession to make. I am probably the only Filipina unfamiliar with the tabo system. This was one of the many mysteries my mother failed to shed light upon during my formative years. As little girls, me and my sisters never had to use a tabo to cleanse ourelves after our private sessions en toilette. In 87 Gentle Street, we had bidets to take care of the dirty little details.
Everyone I knew had bidets in those days. Some of my friends had free-standing bidets. We had the more practical version, ingeniously incorporated into our porcelain bowls. I am referring to those gracefully curved water tubes discreetly tucked into the plumbing system, strategically positioned to shower a cleansing stream of water right where it matters most.
You can imagine my rude awakening when I first moved to the States. In all my years as a US resident, I have yet to find that familiar lavatory/bidet combination, so commonly seen in Manila. Sure, I've encountered free-standing bidets here, mostly in swank hotel rooms, but the average, run-of-the-mill single family home is usually equipped with the average, run-of-the-mill, standard-issue commode. The irony of it is that our toilet bowls back home were called American Standard!
Enter childbirth, and its many wonderful accessories. Each time I am sent home from the hospital with a brand new baby, I get a goody-bag along with my discharge papers. This bag usually contains some diapers, sterilized gauze, breast shields, a rectal thermometer, a suction bulb, and some formula samples. I feverishly root through all the freebies until I find the most important accessory of all: a cleansing bottle. Only then do I allow myself to be wheeled out of my room with my precious little bundle of joy.
To the uninitiated, a cleansing bottle looks quite unspectacular. In fact, it is nothing but a slim white plastic bottle, with one important exception: a directional spout. This enables new mothers to spray themselves with a soothing stream of water, gently washing away all traumatic traces of the birthing experience. I carefully kept both of my bottles after having Lance and Troy. These are now regular fixtures in my upstairs bathrooms, ready to fill at a moment's notice.
But my house has a third bathroom. A powder room downstairs. These days, I am forced to keep a bottle there, since I am too far along in my pregnancy to be rushing upstairs when nature calls. The other bottle is constantly juggled between my master bath and the children's bathroom, both located in our second floor. I don't mind the hassle. At almost 26 weeks gestation, I won't have to wait much before I complete my collection. Come June this year, all three of my bathrooms will be equipped with their own portable Bidet-in-a-Bottle.
The tabo system for the 21st century!
I have a shocking confession to make. I am probably the only Filipina unfamiliar with the tabo system. This was one of the many mysteries my mother failed to shed light upon during my formative years. As little girls, me and my sisters never had to use a tabo to cleanse ourelves after our private sessions en toilette. In 87 Gentle Street, we had bidets to take care of the dirty little details.
Everyone I knew had bidets in those days. Some of my friends had free-standing bidets. We had the more practical version, ingeniously incorporated into our porcelain bowls. I am referring to those gracefully curved water tubes discreetly tucked into the plumbing system, strategically positioned to shower a cleansing stream of water right where it matters most.
You can imagine my rude awakening when I first moved to the States. In all my years as a US resident, I have yet to find that familiar lavatory/bidet combination, so commonly seen in Manila. Sure, I've encountered free-standing bidets here, mostly in swank hotel rooms, but the average, run-of-the-mill single family home is usually equipped with the average, run-of-the-mill, standard-issue commode. The irony of it is that our toilet bowls back home were called American Standard!
Enter childbirth, and its many wonderful accessories. Each time I am sent home from the hospital with a brand new baby, I get a goody-bag along with my discharge papers. This bag usually contains some diapers, sterilized gauze, breast shields, a rectal thermometer, a suction bulb, and some formula samples. I feverishly root through all the freebies until I find the most important accessory of all: a cleansing bottle. Only then do I allow myself to be wheeled out of my room with my precious little bundle of joy.
To the uninitiated, a cleansing bottle looks quite unspectacular. In fact, it is nothing but a slim white plastic bottle, with one important exception: a directional spout. This enables new mothers to spray themselves with a soothing stream of water, gently washing away all traumatic traces of the birthing experience. I carefully kept both of my bottles after having Lance and Troy. These are now regular fixtures in my upstairs bathrooms, ready to fill at a moment's notice.
But my house has a third bathroom. A powder room downstairs. These days, I am forced to keep a bottle there, since I am too far along in my pregnancy to be rushing upstairs when nature calls. The other bottle is constantly juggled between my master bath and the children's bathroom, both located in our second floor. I don't mind the hassle. At almost 26 weeks gestation, I won't have to wait much before I complete my collection. Come June this year, all three of my bathrooms will be equipped with their own portable Bidet-in-a-Bottle.
The tabo system for the 21st century!
Wednesday, February 18, 2004
ONE DAY ISANG VALENTINE
For Valentine's Day, I wrote a tribute to my husband at 87 Gentle Street, entitled "Seven's A Charm (A Valentine's Diary Through the Years)".
After he read my lengthy love offering, Lorenzo turned to me with an rakish smile. He told me he was now inspired to write his own Valentine's diary. He said he would entitle it "Valentine's, Behind the Scenes".
Upon further questioning, my husband disclosed that it would be exactly like my diary, except he would detail EVERYTHING that happened when we were alone, after the Valentine celebrations were over!
Of course, his plans didn't get past the Board of Censors (aka his wife!). Instead, he wrote a very tender poem in his site, which he dedicated to me.
Now my husband is very shy when it comes to his poetry and prose, and I know how much of a struggle it is for him to bare his heart for all the world to see. He's come a long way, and I'm very proud of his efforts.
In this light, I would like to present to you "One Day Isang Araw". This is Lorenzo's verbal canvas, his showcase during those times when the muse ensnares him, and his only escape is to blog his way out!
Keep up the good work, my Love. I can't wait to read more!
For Valentine's Day, I wrote a tribute to my husband at 87 Gentle Street, entitled "Seven's A Charm (A Valentine's Diary Through the Years)".
After he read my lengthy love offering, Lorenzo turned to me with an rakish smile. He told me he was now inspired to write his own Valentine's diary. He said he would entitle it "Valentine's, Behind the Scenes".
Upon further questioning, my husband disclosed that it would be exactly like my diary, except he would detail EVERYTHING that happened when we were alone, after the Valentine celebrations were over!
Of course, his plans didn't get past the Board of Censors (aka his wife!). Instead, he wrote a very tender poem in his site, which he dedicated to me.
Now my husband is very shy when it comes to his poetry and prose, and I know how much of a struggle it is for him to bare his heart for all the world to see. He's come a long way, and I'm very proud of his efforts.
In this light, I would like to present to you "One Day Isang Araw". This is Lorenzo's verbal canvas, his showcase during those times when the muse ensnares him, and his only escape is to blog his way out!
Keep up the good work, my Love. I can't wait to read more!
Thursday, February 12, 2004
OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF BABES
(OVERVIEW: After viewing my kids' favorite DVD, "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone", Lance, my precocious 4-year-old, was arguing with his 8-year-old cousin, Christa. They were having a heated discussion about how Harry Potter was able to break a bottle while trying out a new wand at Olivander's...)
LANCE (righteously indignant): It was magic!!!
CHRISTA (in her most know-it-all, I'm-four-years-older-than-you-tone): No it wasn't.
LANCE (getting more defensive): It was magic!!!
CHRISTA (in her smuggest tone yet): No. It was special effects. Someone shot the bottle when he waved his wand!
(Now who can argue with an 8-year-old's logic?)
(OVERVIEW: After viewing my kids' favorite DVD, "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone", Lance, my precocious 4-year-old, was arguing with his 8-year-old cousin, Christa. They were having a heated discussion about how Harry Potter was able to break a bottle while trying out a new wand at Olivander's...)
LANCE (righteously indignant): It was magic!!!
CHRISTA (in her most know-it-all, I'm-four-years-older-than-you-tone): No it wasn't.
LANCE (getting more defensive): It was magic!!!
CHRISTA (in her smuggest tone yet): No. It was special effects. Someone shot the bottle when he waved his wand!
(Now who can argue with an 8-year-old's logic?)
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