Witch Mountain all over again

Disney's "Witch Mountain" movies of the 70s' were a major influence on my formative years. They were among the first movies I watched focused on paranormal themes. They fed me with fantasies of ESP abilities, aliens and spacecraft; but it was because of these fantasies that I began reading the newspapers, looking out for articles on such topics.

Somehow, Witch Mountain made a believer out of me and I suppose I was looking for corroborating evidence that such things were real. If they could be real for other people -- so my logic went -- they could turn out to be real for me too. After expending much effort on fruitless mental levitation, my teenage mind decided that if ESP wasn't my gift, then I had to be an alien. Perhaps that above all effectively ended my teenage social life, and turned me into the warped and twisted middle-ageing adult I am today.

Not surprisingly, I made a bee-line for the latest Witch Mountain tale to spin out of the Disney Studio... and realised how much I've grown up in 30-plus years. I mean the basic plot is the same: two young aliens wielding extraordinary powers get chased around for pretty much the whole movie by an evil, obsessive character, and are aided by some uncle-ly dude who promises to get them home, wherever home may be. But I've lost the magic of the first movie and I spent most of the time spotting plot loopholes big enough for a taxi, an RV and a flying saucer to transit through -- abreast.

"Race to Witch Mountain" is a pastiche of many sci-fi plots -- "Enemy of the State", "Terminator", and "Alien", for example -- woven together so loosely it's easy to slip into seen-it-all-before mode. There's a little humour, some action sequences, some big explosions, and the pursuers are by no means benign, but the thrills tend to be short-lived, never sustained.

Oh, well, jaded forty-something talking. I think the biggest thrill for me was to see Ike and Kim (who played the original alien kids) making cameo appearances as a sheriff and a diner waitress respectively. To me, they're old friends whom I haven't seen in decades, and it was a brief vicarious reunion that we shared in a greasy spoon in Stony Creek, small-town USA. It's assuring to see that even as I have grown up, they have too. Tony and Tia, it's good to see you again!

Momentum builds for Drama Night 09

I find it hard to reconcile the notation on my calendar that claims it's the March hols with my 9-hour work day today. I must say that it was a very productive day, and a not at all unenjoyable one 'cos most of the day I spent with the Drama Club, but still I wouldn't call this week a "vacation", like how the rest of the world might consider it. 

Interesting that our scripts this year have rather adult themes and rather, um... adult language, but the kids who are auditioning today seem a little young and naive to be playing such roles. And my intrepid crew of inexperienced student directors themselves haven't quite yet understood the nuances of their chosen scripts yet.

Which brings the club smack into the issue of censorship, or at least toning down of the more squeamish bits so as to play at a level our audience can accept. I realize I'm pushing the envelope here, but it's important that my charges experience the issues of real theater production and its role in the community so that they can see the bigger picture rather than just a romanticized "school-play" version of it.

I'm going to have my hands full with this year's Drama Night. It'll be interesting, but I can only say that I brought it upon myself. Thankfully, I have Tina's expertise and Sha's extra pair of hands to help out.

Ooo... cake!

Happy birthday, June! Hope I haven't hidden your gift too well. It's in a place I thought you'd look at, but so far, you haven't. Hee hee. Keep looking!

Focus, people, focus...

This morning's session with Prof Mo on critical thinking in GP would have been interesting and useful as he was supposed to help us figure out how we could use the subject to train our kids to enter uni more as thinking sceptics than as smart parrots. Unfortunately, our discourse was sidetracked and eventually derailed by a certain inquisitive student who was more interested in picking apart the examples rather than follow the main argument. Like trying to catch the Prof out on some technicality, or something. Typical.

As much as I prefer an interactive class, this one simply couldn't meet its objectives, proving once again that some teachers make the worst students. In times like these, it's best to let go of our previous expectations and just go with the flow. We may not have achieved our goal, but we did get a mildly interesting dialogue out of it anyway.

So the highlight of the day has to be the generous lunch Cynth and Mojo provided from Fassler. We feasted on mounds of sashimi and antipasto, with canapes from Delifrance. And The Daily Scoop ice-cream in assorted flavours for dessert. A big thank you to our bosses for feeding us so well!

Deja Vous

I feel like I've had several conversations like this one in my lifetime.

Lucky me!

Lucky me! Won this scanner-printer from a draw at the IT Show.

Edit 01:

Now, I wonder if my luck was in the drawing of the right coloured ball from the closed box, or in the choice of game. There weren't all that many balls -- I felt only about 10 at the most -- and10:1 odds aren't bad for this sort of game. I suspect Challenger was just giving them away.

The value of a college education

Yay! New entry, which means I have made a significant enough dent in my assessment pile to lift my silence. It was due to the all-nighter I pulled last night, accompanied by a cold pizza and my wife who ensured I stay awake and alert that my conscience is clear today.

One of the things I'm grading is an essay on the relevance of a university education today. I'm quite disturbed by the number of responses that say otherwise, and the reason (note the the singular) they give is that Bill Gates (he went to Havard!), Einstein (he got his PhD at 26 years of age!) and Thomas Edison (homeschooled) didn't have college degrees and still made a success of themselves.

That argument is wrong on at least three levels: 1) The facts are off base; 2) these three are outstanding individuals and hence non-representative of the general population; and 3) to consider the three as representative of 'today' requires some discussion on how they contributed to creating the world as we know it today, otherwise we have to consider two of the three as recent history and hence dismiss them as irrelevant to the discussion. Am I being too strict?

Only eight and a half months to throttle up their secondary school prattle to undergrad standard. I forsee a breathless run to the end of the year. But if there's one thing that'll keep me motivated, it's my own belief in the value of a university education, regardless of what the kids are saying.

I'm flipping through STI, and I'm thinking I was so close to being this guy. I don't want my kids to end up like him either.

Normal service will resume shortly

We apologise for the excruciating quality of the previous entry. Normal service will resume when the pile of papers awaiting grading on Xmac's desk has been significantly reduced...

What's inside the box?

I've got an article here that purports that secondary schools are an anathema to a child's creativity. It isn't the school's intention to do that, of course. We do want our kids to grow into thinking, creative adults, but our processes often send the wrong message.

I think there is a difference between (1) encouraging imagination and (2) nurturing creativity. Schools tend to focus on the latter at the expense of the former, which is what turns off most kids.

Imagination refers to wild flights of fancy, ideas that suggest "anything goes". These ideas are the most fun to play with, sometimes the most dangerous and scary too, but that's why imagination is so much fun, so outside of our mundane reality and existence. But when schools tell us to focus on the real and not on the imaginary, when they tell us to be practical, suddenly life becomes boring and our motivational engines sputter and die. All we want to do is sleep because we can't be our naturally wild and crazy selves any more.

But that's just imagination being curbed, which is not quite the same thing as creativity, though perhaps only one of creativity's more special ingredients. We define 'creativity' as 'out-of-the-box' thinking, but in order to achieve that level of intelligence, we need to know what's INSIDE the box first. That's what schools specialize in, putting students inside a package of social norms, rules, customs, expectations; wrapped in a common knowledge of science, math, languages, and occasionally humanities so that at whichever level we leave school at, we leave with a cohort of peers who know exactly what we know and so we all start out making lives for ourselves from the same, equal starting line. That's fair.

The assumption is that as long as we stay in the box, everything's nice, everything's safe and everything's fair. It's only a rare few who realise that it actually isn't, and they are the ones who start thinking 'outside-the-box', yes, the real creative ones.

Creativity (a.k.a. 'innovation') starts with dissatisfaction, and it seems that at JC level, only GP (and maybe elements of the Arts and Humanities) teaches that the world isn't perfect, that the world doesn't follow the rules that are supposed to work to keep society nice for everyone, that the world isn't fair in the way that math and the sciences with all their rules and formulae tell us it is. Just-follow-the-formula-and-everything-will-be-correct is nonsense in reality, but that's what's inside the box. It's a seductive message to be deluded by and take comfort in, but it's only the dissatisfied and unhappy who question the formulae and eventually become the creative ones.

Imagination, as I mentioned before, is a wild thing. Creativity is our ability to harness our imagination, tame it and make it go where we want it to go. We are creative when we can discipline our imagination, making it work for us. There's a riddle that goes, "what do you need to know before you can train a dog?" to which the answer is, "more than the dog!" That's where most of us are today, in the process of learning more than the dog, those of us who are looking to be creative in spite of our school experience.

Historic morning

College Sports Carnival was today. For the first time, our venue was ECP. Programme was simple; either sign up for a competitive 3 klik trot or a carefree 2 klik stroll on the beach.

As beings of remarkable foresight, June and I met Jojo and Derek for brekkie at McD's before our event. Inside, it was muffins, sausage, hot cakes and scrambled eggs. Outside, the rains swept over with sheets of wet. Just as we'd finished our meal, the word came round: Sports Carnival cancelled due to inclement weather.

Shortest Sports Carny in history. But it could also prove to have been an historic breakfast. The women have an idea which I think has lots of potential. More on that when things develop further.

Strange coincidence

WoW suddenly gets two mentions in the local news on the same day, being associated with the deaths of two promising young men in separate incidents. Both the army doctor and the undergrad were reported as accomplished WoW players, the former "one of the top 10 Warcraft players in Singapore and was among the top 100 in the world", the latter "suddenly threw himself into it with a vengeance, spending as much as six hours a day huddled in front of his PC."

Hope nobody gets too clever and attempts to assert a causual link between computer gaming and strange behaviour leading to deaths under mysterious circumstances. But it's just too convenient and tempting not to.

-----

On a separate note, congrats to the KIds, all of whom passed, ZH being our first ever 'Ace'! And it was great to be reunited with NBS, my partner in crime, again. We celebrated with a MOS and breathed a collective sigh of relief that we didn't let them down after all. Yay!

Who watched the Watchmen?

Me! Wow.

Yes, "Watchmen" the movie is based on a superhero graphic novel. Yes, there are odd-looking people in eyebrow-raising costumes walking among ordinary people in everyday dress. Yes, improbable gadgets are part of an arsenal of other impractical designs. They are there to remind us that this is a story about superheroes who live and struggle to co-exist in our imperfect world -- a world even their vaunted superpowers cannot help.

One feature that stands out in a movie of this genre is that there is no super-villain to fight. No arch-nemesis who plots world-domination that would give a team of superheroes a raison d'etre for their existence. The closest thing to one is a frail old man who has long given up his evil-suit and his evil ways, suffering from cancer and living off a meagre pension awaiting death.

The fact is, superheroes do not need a supervillain to trouble humankind. Superheroes themselves ARE sufficent trouble for us. They are us, flawed, psychologcally warped and twisted as we already are, but enhanced with superpowers. And really, the Watchmen individually don't have much by way of their powers to distinguish one hero from another. They are generally super strong, super fast, super tough, regardless of what name or costume they wear. When superpowers meet normal human strength, it is not a pretty sight. Bones break -- badly, blood spatters on contact. It's just a matter of degree.

In that sense, the Watchmen are a parallel of the Olympian gods and goddesses in Greek mythology, with their infighting and the spillover of that into the lives of mortal men. Some are amoral, like the Comedian who behaves much like the Joker would if he was on the side of law-enforcement, and whose murder begins the story. There are those who see the world in completely black-and-white terms, like the disturbed Rorschach, for whom good is good and evil must die a horrible death. And there are those whose powers far exceed those of human ken, like Dr Manhattan, confused about humanity's doings from his cosmic perspective. With heroes like these, who needs villains any more?

Nevertheless, they all feel responsible for the well-being of people, yet are hampered by their own human weaknesses and a sense of hopelessness that they can do nothing to stop human depravity from annihilating us all.

The world is on the brink of nuclear war, only hours away from The Button being pushed. With a supervillain, the solution is simple: beat up the bad guy, destroy his toys, save the world. But with superheroes vs (national) superpowers, the problem has become infinitely more complex; the solution perhaps more drastic than can be conscionable.

"Watchmen" does not promise brainless entertainment. The plot's throughline gets interrupted often with flashbacks adding little bits of exposition at a time. It's also disconcerting to watch the Watchmen not behave in the way we've come to expect from our heroes -- the mask only hides the face, but can't hide human nature lurking beneath the skin. And at the end, we, the audience are left to judge if in the use of power, even for the greater good, the end justifies the means.

Heavy stuff. Lots of dialogue; short, intense bursts of action; moral shocks and dilemmas to ponder over; nobility mixed in with a lot of nastiness; a movie that requires concentration and active reflection. Did I like it? Yes! But I felt quite drained after.

Sick? Leave!

If only our staff would follow the above advice, we might not be falling sick so often.

Today we had a lecture shared between Paul and Madam A. Coincidentally, both called in on medical leave, and we were stranded without a lecturer. It was a bit of a scramble, but Amy and I very quickly went through their notes and slides to cobble a lecture together on their behalf.

It's a bit strange going over other people's materials because there are often blanks and knowledge gaps that the speakers' would fill in on their own through a personal anecdote, aside, POV, or some visual material to present. Occasionally we stand-ins may not agree with a point here and there, or we feel that we have better material to illustrate it. So over brekkie we got me prepped to take the mike and pinch lecture for our absent colleagues.

When I got down to the LT, Madam A was already there, breaking her curfew. Somehow, she had got wind that we had no lecturer and so she made her way to campus -- croaky voice and all -- to take back the mike that was rightfully hers. One hour later, after having delivered her lecture and cleansing her conscience, we promptly chased her off campus.

There's something about our college that makes us want to pitch in and do whatever it takes to get our jobs done. There's a certain pride we take in doing a good piece of work. It's part ownership and part not letting the team down, and part because we have a strong belief in the rightness of what we are doing. And as Amy once pointed out, we aren't a calculating people either.

But we do need to take better  care of our health too.

New vocab: "Sidebarring"

I thought Professional Development (PD) was sort of exclusive to us? It seems we have copied from the Americans again, along with the problems that go with it... being that teachers make the worst students. Click here.

I will survive

Again, not much time other than to post a few links. CNN's got this series on people who are finding ways to survive this economic downturn and it seems like a good time to share some good news amidst the gloom so here goes:

http://money.cnn.com/galleries/2009/news/0902/gallery.optimism/index.html
http://edition.cnn.com/2009/LIVING/02/26/economy.survivor.farm/index.html

To survive the lousy economy occasionally means forgoing our squeamishness for a regular paycheck
http://edition.cnn.com/2009/US/02/27/topless.coffee.shop/index.html

And distributing what would otherwise be wasted to people who really need it, gratis
http://edition.cnn.com/2009/LIVING/wayoflife/03/01/ship.to.shelter/index.html

And a story from China!

http://edition.cnn.com/2009/WORLD/asiapcf/02/25/china.lifeonline/index.html

An enlightened 21st century robot employer

I am no technophobe. This is the 21st century and I own a robot. It keeps my floor clean, not perfectly but adequately.

I can't help anthropomorphosizing (omg, a 20-letter word!) it. When I push its activation button, it make a cheery beeping sound and backs out of its charging unit all busy and anxious to get to work. It bumps around blindly as it crosses and recrosses the floor picking up bits of debris as it goes.

It's a rudimentary trial-and-error function but it's persistent enough to get the job done. I'm even forgiving of the occasional missed spots -- considering that it works more like a child's toy than an actual intelligent machine, I'm surprised it can deliver the results that it does.

I even worry for it when it starts to lose its charge. When that happens, it will home in on a radio signal the charging base sends out to guide it back to safety and sustenance. But it becomes a game of "hot and cold" as the robot continues to bump around the room trying to locate the signal, sometimes getting close only to be bumped away when it hits a wall or some other obstacle in its path. Will it ever make it back in time before its batteries deplete completely? It's painful to watch, and I have to resist the urge to pick it up and carry it home myself when at times it looks so hopelessly lost.

But so far, the only times it has failed to find its way home was once when we accidentally switched off the charging base (duh) and another time when it jammed on a dishrag that had inadvertently fallen to the floor. But otherwise, it's always been at the last minute able to find the correct vector and go home on its own. As it docks, it chirps its relief, then settles down for a nice quiet nosh until we call it out for duty again, usually the next day.

That's my little robot, my almost fifth pet. So if that's how I'm like with robots as an enlightened 21st century robot employer, then why does the US Army's "Big Dog" send a shiver of fear down my spine?

How to make a class keep quiet

One guaranteed way to kill a debate is by participating in it. At least, that's what's happened to the "education" thread in my kids' blogs. Try to be too clever, and they don't know how to respond after that. So I'm holding my peace in the thread on Law and Society, quietly observing as more and more of them start contributing to the discussion. It's fun to watch them pitch their theories at each other as they work out among themselves whether the Law makes Society, or if it's Society that makes the Law. When they get sufficiently confused and ask for my input, then I'll throw in my two cents. I have no wish to end yet another promising webchat prematurely.

Take a break

With so much work backlog, I only have time to post a quick link, which under the circumstances I think is quite appropriate: kids -- even big 'uns like me -- need RECESS! Fortunately, I have colleagues who believe in it as much as I do too.

We want to know the Truth

I happen to be pontificating again, so I'll just do a little copy-and-paste here as I respond to a couple of questions from the blogs of a couple of my current kids. Context: they're asking about the need for them to study hard in school because the end result as they see it is just a paper qualification that they are unlikely to make use of when they start a totally unrelated career [like maybe once the recession is over].

My response is a bit airy-fairy, a bit philosophical, but I only hope to provoke more questions to prolong an already interesting online debate. Here goes:

"We study because we want to know the Truth, and if we can't get the Truth immediately, we need to learn the tools we can use to discover the Truth for ourselves.

Why is the Truth so important? Knowing the Truth means you cannot be lied to, cannot be cheated or manipulated to do other people's bidding. Knowing the Truth sets you free, indeed.

Do we need a rigorous education system? Absolutely. The Truth is a slippery devil, and knowing the Truth will not always make us happy. So you have to be prepared to uncover the Truth and to deal with it when you find it.

Schools present truths (broken up into the different subjects) in their purest form. The longer you stay in school (right up to post-degree level), the more practice you get in discerning Truth from mere truths. Hence, it's a lot easier to become an empowered person through the school system than in any other environment because the school focuses its energy on EXAMining the Truth more so than anywhere else.

Sadly, most people go to the university just to get a degree they won't know what to do with when they graduate, when there is so much more education has to offer.

I'm actually a believer in education for education's sake. Our big mistake is to be rushing through the "system" and by doing so we take a lot of short cuts in the learning process.

If we examine the word "study" we see a process taking place in our minds: we observe (something... let's say a subject topic) -> we analyse it (break it apart to see what it's made of and how it works) -> we experiment (put it back together in new ways to see how it might behave differently in new and different forms) -> we apply (see connections between what we have just learned and what we already know in order to understand future implications) -> and when we are able to connect both prior knowledge and our new knowledge, that's when memory kicks in.

But because we are all in a rush to become paper qualified, we skip all the middle bits and what we end up with is students struggling to memorise a load of material that is new and unfamiliar because there's a test coming up tomorrow. That is no longer by definition "studying", that's just donkey work.

I know you don't have time, but I really hope you pick up one thing (just one) from our GP sessions: to stop doing donkey work and learn to study for real."

Oh dear, I just hope I haven't killed the ongoing debate. This looks like quite a chunk of text for the kids to wade through.

Brave soldier

Oh, the drama of it all! While taking down his club's recruitment poster, Josh falls off his stepladder and bangs up his elbow good. Refusing to trouble anybody, he takes a cab to the hospital on his own. Diagnosis: dislocated right elbow, slight fracture in his arm. Doc gives him 10 days' medical leave, and the next thing he does is show up back at work, arm in cast and sling, claiming to all and sundry that he'd rather return to campus to face the daily chaos than stay home and face the wall for the next 10 days.

He has a point there. A lot of our experience at work can be quite highly therapeutic. We're busy and occupied the whole day, our friends and other silly people are within a quick SMS away for a little break and general entertainment to break up the monotony of the day, and really the atmosphere is a lot more livening than an isolation ward at home. So I fully understand his reluctance to stay off campus, even though I and many other colleagues berated him fully for not taking care of himself by going home to recuperate from his rather serious injury.

The end of the matter came when he was banned from darkening our doors again by the P himself, so there's nothing more to be said about that.

Poor Josh. Take care of that elbow, keep it immobilized, rest well and recover soon!

Alvin gets hitched

And now a big Congrats! to Alvin on his long anticipated wedding. Here he is, just about to pop his champaign bottle, and his expression says it all. There's happiness mixed in with excitement and a little tense anxiety in not knowing when exactly the inevitable explosion of pressured fizz will occur, other than any second now.

I dunno, I'm just trying to find some significance to the champaign pouring ritual that Wayne's co-MC explained at length in Mandarin, but Wayne himself was unable to provide the requisite translation for us non-Chinese-speaking folks.

Anyway, I gotta thank Alvin for the invite. His dinner at the Grand Copthorne Harbourfront was an enjoyable Chinese 8-course. Notable dishes include the shark's fin soup (please no environmentalist commentary here -- I don't know if it was faux fin, so I'm assuming it was) with larger than usual chunks of crab meat in it; a lovely pomfret in some kind of veggie soup; a voluptous chicken, "pipa" style; an odd package of glutinous rice that tasted better than it looked; and a standard mango pud that was delicious simply because it was familiar.

Sorry to say our table was a clear split between dNYel folks and a bunch of guys I surmise were Alvin's chums from who knows where. We shared the table like we were at a crowded food court, except that we picked from the same dishes. Didn't need to get to know them any better as I was already in the presence of good company. 

Pix of said good company: click here.

El Cheapos go to the spa

June and I are taking up el cheapo spa treatments as they are offered to us through credit card promotions. Spas entice first-time tryouts with low trial prices, then hit us with a package deal after the initial treatment is over. But we've been good so far, holding our ground and refusing to sign anything, no matter how competitive the pricing sounds like.

Perhaps for me, the novelty has worn off some. I could not get my mind to relax at today's treatment. Usually, a good rub-down sends me off to zzz-land but all I could think about was work. I don't mean I am being unusually stressed out by my job and I have things in particular to fret over; I mean I was thinking about how to respond to some very good questions a couple of my kids have posed me about the nature of the Law in society. It was a juicy bone my inner bulldog would not let go of.

So the masseuse was having a hard time getting me kneaded down into the compliant jelly that I like to become by the end of a good session. Nevertheless, I think she did a great job on my shoulders, neck and back; and she did find a nasty sore spot in my left calf -- probably the result of standing for too many hours favouring one leg over the other. Hazard of my profession, I suppose.

Final score: top marks to the massuese for treating individual body parts, but sadly, not so high on my overall sense of well-being. It may not have been her fault, but my mind was just too busy to enjoy all the good things she was doing to me.

We continue not signing spa packages...

Back in familiar territory

M2's home from the shop at last! I never got used to driving the Altis, but now I'm back in familiar old territory again. M2's acceleration is a bit more gradual and he doesn't brake as abruptly. The one thing I'll miss about the Altis, though, is the air-conditioning -- chills the interior in seconds whereas M2's is little more than just ventilation on hot days.

Jack, my contact at the 'shop had some words of wisdom for me: "Sometimes you hit people, sometimes people hit you. Driving's like that." Gee, thanks.

Vanity, all is vanity

Well, this was inevitable. A shot of the "new" Altis taken by the new Samsung camera/cell-phone. Yes, pix is a bit blurry. Still working out some of the kinks.

Replacement Altis

M2's gone to the shop. Meantime, I've picked up a rental Altis provided by the shop. It feels odd to drive a strange car that's a little longer and lower that the one I'm used to. It has a rather mechanical feel to it, like it's operating on pure muscle power -- say, that of 50,000 rabid hamsters running under the hood. The brakes are so responsive, I'm pretty sure it's been especially tuned to accommodate twitchy drivers, whose nerves are slowly recovering from a recent vehicle collision.

That's good, 'cos by the time I get M2 back on Friday, the tic behind my left eye should have completely gone.

Conspicuous consumption

Old cell phone on the fritz -- after just over a year. Not receiving sound, though I believe whomever I'm talking to can hear my frustrated "hello, hello..."

Went with emotion instead of good sense and sprung for a Samsung SGH-F480. Doh, and I wonder why I'm always broke.

Happy bumpday!

Siiiigggghhh...! My poor, longsuffering M2 picked up a new ding in yet another traffic light incident. I swear, traffic lights cause as many road mishaps as they are supposed to prevent.

I am already stationary, waiting for the lights to turn green. They turn green and I wait for the car in front of me to move, but the guy behind me doesn't. His blue Jazz shoves its nose right up M2's butt causing a dent and a scratch on my rear door. He loses his licence plate, mine is still intact, though slightly bent.

At this point, I'm pretty philosophical. No one's hurt and our damage looks merely cosmetic. So we calmly trade personal particulars and will let IDAC and our respective insurances settle for us in the morning.

Meantime, I've got my folks and Aunt Shirls in the back seat. We're celebrating Mom's 70th with a grand seafood buffet at Aquamarine, Marina Mandarin. The bump at the lights did not spoil anybody's mood or appetite. With the USA half-shell oysters on offer, so fresh and so delicious ("tasting of the sea", June says), they proved more than a balm to soothe ruffled feathers, if there were any. And that was just the starter.

Aquamarine was also a good choice 'cos they gave us privileged seating, and a complementary chocolate truffle birthday cake (as in the pix above) and parking because of the special occasion. And 10% off for UOB cardholders.

Happy 70th, Mom!

dNYel's Big Day

dNYel's big day has finally come to an end. All the running around the past few weeks and the last spurt of frenzied activity over the past few days have come to quite a satisfactory conclusion, and I can finally look at this weekend with only "dinner" pencilled onto the calendar.

We themed Get Ed! day to focus on the mass media industry. We roped in speakers and guests from the press (broadcast and print), media academics (local and foreign), a local activist blogger, a psych, the Authorities, and a couple of other media interest groups to discuss industry issues in "breakout sessions" with the whole college. A local talk radio station set up a forum in LT3 to chat about "advertising", broadcast 'live' on air; while on our part I was thoroughly impressed with Madam A who ran with my idea for her to host a talk show (I once had a convincing vision of her as a talk show host and I spoke aloud about it) and she went whole hog, interviewing the queen of TV talk shows, Diana S, herself, on the "Terror Blanks Show" which she hosted in LT2.

Me, I got my own shot as Jeopardy! host, sans Sean Connery and his shenanigans, fortunately.

Why am I writing so much detail? 'cos I've been tasked to do a write-up of the event's more innovative aspects for Kevin's committee, and I need to remind myself who to interview for their side of the story.

In what was to become a very long day, we had reps from the three Universities' admissions boards to discuss entry requirements with the kids and their parents in the evening. We are very gratified that the Unis themselves have spoken on the issue that good grades are definitely not enough to guarantee entry. Rather, applicants need qualifying grades but must "stand out from the crowd" through their personalities, their activities outside of the curriculum, and their general and current affairs knowledge in one or more interviews with the Unis they are applying to.

This is good to hear because this is exactly what our GP programme aims to train the kids in. We feel much more validated now. 

Setting up for Jeopardy!

Ladies and gentlemen, this is... Jeopardy! And tomorrow is your's truly's big debut as a game show host for the JC1s. I consider yesterday's run with the JC2s as just a rehearsal.

This afternoon, we set up LT1 with CL's electric buzzer and scoreboard system, so the place really looks like a skeletal version of a TV studio set. Well, perhaps like one in some developing nation with an ambition to explore high technology in its near future, anyway.

Coincidentally, I found the above video clip about how TV's Jeopardy! has changed over the years. LT1 today is a hybrid of ancient marker-pen and current networked technologies. It's a little Frankenstein monster I can proudly call my own -- at least until the real Jeopardy! lawyers come a-callin'. Bwa ha ha!

Sums up the week

I began an email I sent today as follows:

"One thing I love about my job is the constant practice in juggling conflicting requirements and coming up with desperate, if not creative solutions to keep the show running. And I always thought I was never any good at improv."

That kinda' sums up the week I'm having. And it's only Tuesday.

The robots are coming!

This is typical cat behaviour. 1st, check to see if the newcomer is at all a) edible, or b) bully-able.

Maui gets a new playmate, and the playmate collects a new toy.

After some getting used to each other, Maui and the Roomba are new best friends.

May picked up a Roomba for us on her travels. With all the fur, fluff and whatnot sloughing off our pets, and forming a daily layer of sediment on the floorboards, we simply cannot spare the time to keep our place neatly vacuumed all the time.

Solution: let a robot from iRobot do it for us while we're out at work so that the house is pristine by the time we come home. Enter the Roomba 560, electronic self-directed dustbuster extraordinaire! Battery-operated, it circles our floor and sucks up all the pets' sheddings. When it gets low on power it automatically docks itself with its charging bay for a nom, and then it's ready to go again, if that's what we want.

May gave it an initial charging while in the US, and on that single charge it performed quite a satisfactory job in our living and dining rooms. But to charge it again, Tong will be helping us to find an adaptor that can tansform our current (240V) to a voltage its American tastes are more accustomed to (110V). Until then, its initial charge expended, it's temporarily dormant while it awaits its next meal.

The Roomba isn't capable of miracles, though. It's a lot faster to do our vacuuming manually, and it misses the occasional spot, but that could be perhaps due to Maui messing with its operations as he tries to play with his new friend. But since we expect it to be working while we're out, it should be able to get most of the floor clean by the time we get back. For us, that's good enough.

Cool! My 1st Robot.

Teachers behaving badly

What would the kids say if they ever saw their so-respectable teachers behaving like kindergarten children while playing 4-player "Rayman Raving Rabbids TV Party" on a Wii? On that rather disturbing thought, thanks, Amy, for arranging tonight's fabulously hilarious CNY steam-boat dinner!

To say we had fun would be an understatement. :D

Hi, NBS and HP! Glad y'all could make the party too!

Life at the Improv

Improv games can be quite intimidating to have to engage in. Tina is making the kids do a lot of improv as a means to workshop and devise scenes from completely unrehearsed scenarios.

It's both amusing and annoying when the kids try to "take control" of the "situations" they find themselves in. They will gather for a chat about who is supposed to do what to create the scene, sort of mentally rehearsing their scene before they play it out. What's amusing is their elevated stress levels as they plan and project; what's annoying is that instead of watching a scene, the audience only sees a gaggle of kids huddling in a circle trying to decide what "should" be.

While there is a time and place for meeting and planning, much of what happens in life is unexpected and unrehearsed and it's important for us to improv through many potentially ridiculous situations in which "should" goes out the window in favour of "is".

Improv works when the players simply respond to whatever probable or improbable proposition is made to them through their fellow players. If someone suggests there is a giant spider behind their backs, the other players will accept such and move the scene along by simply responding to the fact. But scenes grind to a halt when certain players start dictating how the other players "should" react, or when players dispute the offer -- basically going into denial.

We play the same game in life. Much of what we encounter are unrehearsed scenes where the only rule is to accept the offer (good or bad, happy or sad, etc.) and move the scene along. Where we mess up in life is when we try to control the uncontrollable, or when we deny the probablilty or even the justice of what is happening to us.

Remember, our job is to move the scene along. Failure is when we bring our scene to a grinding halt.

When evil is evil, and good is clueless

The first movie I pick to watch this year was an orgy of of gore and senseless violence. It's about killing with perfunctory efficiency using small-arms, blades, and whatever else within grabbing range that can send a guy to meet his maker without the fuss and bother of a fair trial before a jury of his peers.

Enough clues? Yes, I watched "Punisher: War Zone", featuring everyone's favourite Marvel non-super non-hero psychopath, the Punisher. And the preceding paragraph roughly summarizes the plot.

This is by no means a critique of the movie. I take my hat off to director, Lexi Alexander, who courageously dispenses with a long, convoluted plot and opts in favour of dropping us straight into the world as Frank Castle himself views it: war with no end, any threat to the innocent is expeditiously removed because the good don't have a clue how to take care of themselves.

The only complication Castle finds himself in is that sometimes we can't immediately tell good from evil, and he has to come to terms with a mistake he makes while pursuing his own course of justice.

P:WZ is no summer blockbuster. I'm glad it doesn't even pretend to be. An acquired taste, then, and definitely not meant for everyone. There are few high points and even then, few as they are, they are tinged with uneasiness. There are "funny" moments, though we laugh only because there's no other way to deal with the brutality of the dispatch. There's a sense of, "Yes! Justice!", but at the same time, "OmG, what a way to go."

Welcome to the world of the Punisher. Thankfully for most of us, we don't live there.

Darwin Award candidate

Something should be done about dangerous barriers

I WISH to highlight the dangerous crossing for pedestrians walking to Thomson Plaza from Jasmine Road.

There is a side road at Thomson Plaza, near the Starbucks outlet. It has four lanes, one for cars and taxis to enter, one for cars to exit the carpark, and two for trade vehicles to enter and exit the delivery area.

There are two barriers across the lanes for trade vehicles and a zebra crossing across the other two lanes. As the traffic there can be heavy, most people use the zebra crossing. But one must negotiate the lanes for trade vehicles before reaching the crossing.

Recently, as I was walking to Thomson Plaza, I decided to go through the lanes for trade vehicles to get to the zebra crossing. One barrier was down while the other was up. It was about 1pm and there were no security guards stationed there. As I walked between the two barriers, one came down and hit my head.

I stumbled into Thomson Plaza for help and sought medical attention at a clinic. The doctor who attended to me told me that she too had been hit by the barrier, but that her umbrella had shielded her from the blow.

I wrote to the mall's management on Dec 21, five days after the accident, to ask them to rectify the problem. I have not received a reply.

Clarice Tan (Mrs)

(STI online Forum, 2 February 2009)

-------------------

Madam

The injury to your head must have been quite serious for you to be raising via the local dailies this oversight of due diligence. One possible countermeasure to prevent a repeat occurrence of this eventuality is to avoid walking under raised barriers altogether. This simple and basic precaution has saved thousands of heads from similar Blunt Force Trauma attempts committed by such wayward barriers as you have had the misfortune to encounter, and millions of dollars in medical fees thereafter.

You raise a legitimate concern regarding the lack of security guards stationed at the barriers. The emergence of sensor-equipped automatic barriers has completely eradicated the need for a manual labourer to perform this operation, forcing yet another uncle to undergo retraining in order to find alternative employment. Perhaps you'll be good enough and employ one to hold an umbrella above your head while you go strolling to the mall from now on?

Nevertheless, we must make allowances for some people who insist on swimming in the crocodile pond even after seeing the lifeguard on duty being devoured. To them, we present an award for thinning the gene pool, hence making the future safer for our descendants.

Hiking Henderson

Hiked the Southern Ridges with Cat and Sam. It was an excellent day for trekking as it was neither too hot nor wet enough to favour bed and blankie over the great outdoors .

It was also an opportunity to meet Sam's folks again, old friends they are from TO days. They did well to keep up with us most of the way, but eventually they left us young 'uns to finish the trail, or rather, until we reached the Hort Park before turning back.

Have to apologise to Cat for turning down her lunch offer. We'd already had it in our minds to reward ourselves with Belgian mussels, and we would not be turned from our culinary objective. All I can say is, we were not disappointed. Mmmm... mussels.

Jen hosted us at dinner at her place. We sampled her experiments with sambal pasta, chix rice balls and her apple juice/7-Up beverage and pronounced them most savory. No leftovers -- is that a compliment to the chef, or what?

A quick shoutout to Felicia and Jessica, new friends Jen introduced to us over dinner. Hi!

Girls and gaming

When I was considering a marriage partner, one characteristeric of the girl of my dreams was that she would enjoy video gaming as much as I did. I could see us pairing up online and adventuring together, hacking and slashing our way to wealth and glory, at least in the virtual world.

June, who I married, is no gamer. All our adventures have been in the real world, and online I still game solo. That is, until she discovered PS on FB.

PS is a game she plays online with her FB friends. It's partially a home-builder's dream in which a key objective is to furnish and decorate the player's virtual home with all the splendours of opulence as the player can afford with the credits earned through playing the game. The player's avatar likewise gets decked out with the the rarest and most lavish couture and accessories virtual money can buy. In a sense, it's transferrance at work: our materialistic fantasy life actualized through a game that rewards pro-social behaviour and a keep-up-with-the-jonses motivation for keeping gameplay fresh and active.

Because of the competition to accumulate wealth, there has developed an almost real-world economy for the game world. Real people -- friends and strangers -- are talking to each other through an online forum inquiring, offering, trading, begging, basically bartering virtual items for the rarer and more in-demand commodities. That, I guess, is where the real fun is.

Now June and May have plunged themselves into the PS game world and are now serious traders in hard-to-acquire goods. It started with a stroke of luck in running across a hot item and making a good trade, spinning off enough capital to seek out more... rinse, repeat, make more profits.

Oh, and I get to help out too, questing for stuff they are likely to sell, and because they are the more market-savvy ones, I leave the selling to them.

So I've got my wish, after all. My wife and I are in a non-violent adventure to acquire obscene amounts of virtual social standing and commensurate ostentation, though I'm kinda' missing the gore and tension of a more visceral survive-or-die struggle. Still, it's a start.

Shoulders of giants

So good to have Tina back to guide the Drama Club this year. Steph did a fantastic job last year, but with the ambition and scale of my vision for the Club, I think Tina has the influence and standing to make it happen.

Hey, I can so dream big, ok?

Settled in

Finally, we can say we've completely moved into our new digs. The last room is clear of our stuff and we can see the floor once again. Operation Spring Clean has been a resounding success. We're so proud of ourselves... well, mostly June. Heh.

Already we can say the cats have settled down as well. They're so comfortable, they've already destroyed our brand new sofa! Poor sofa.

Years in the making

Haven't seen Lil and Mike for a while, but they've arrived from TO to catch up with us, bringing their little one in tow. This meeting, several years in the making, saw us convening at the PS Cafe, Dempsey Hill, to devour pastries, sip beverages and share accumulated gossip about our absent friends we used to hang out with long ago. Here we are considering how to divvy up five profiteroles drowned in dark chocolate sauce among seven of us, with more desserts to follow.

The company looking totally stuffed after a good feeding. We shared a variety of a la mode cakes. Yums.

We came to the conclusion that we should meet more often than just once a year. We were once a tight knit bunch way back in TO, and there's no reason why that has to change, even though some time has passed between us since we last saw each other.

Urgency bordering on desperation

Between reunion dinner and reunion coffee, June and I took Aunt Shirls to absorb the atmosphere of Chinatown on CNY eve.  This is the first time Shirls has dropped by to celebrate CNY with us, so we thought it would be most memorable if we plunged her straight into the heart of the dragon itself.

As expected, Chinatown was bursting at the seams with bargain hunters, last-minute shoppers and tourists. Human physical contact was frequent, limited mostly to shoulder charges and elbow jabs; though I must add in a non-threatening form, just enough to avoid traffic from seizing up altogether. Stallholders hawked their discount prices over portable amp systems adding to the general chaos and confusion.

We we there only from about 2000-2100, early enough to soak up the excitement without feeling a complete loss of control over the situation. Any later -- say around midnight -- all bets are off. By then, most people would have been done with their reunion dinners, and prices would have reached rock-bottom, triggering the buying frenzy of the patiently circling, milling, gathering crowd. No, we were long gone by then, the only purchase we made was a new pair of flip-flops to replace Shirls' shoes which were giving her blisters.

Must make a note of the public restroom facilities at Chinatown MRT which under no circumstances I would have even approached except in dire necessity. Surprisingly, despite the crowd and its urgency bordering on desperation, people arranged themselves within orderly queues behind their unit of choice and patiently bore out their turn.

My particular *ahem* need was for the cubicle, for which I had to wait a bit longer. Butt instead of the hellhole I was expecting I found myself in a clean, dry space with lots of TP to spare. Even the seat was spray-free, if a tad warm. It was a pleasant surprise because the crowd comprised a large proportion of people who do not have a particularly strong reputation for their toiletry habits. Perhaps it's time to rethink the stereotype.

Made it back to Dad's for the usual family coffee and riot to count down the new year.

I live at mumble, mumble...

Here's an interesting article about place names that have changed in meaning due to changes in language use over time. Once respectable addresses are now the butt of jokes, much to the embarrassment to the good folks in residence there.

Perhaps they should now just opt to have their correspondence via email instead. Like for example, arsewankerzorz@whateveremail.com.

Last minute spring cleaning

One day before CNY eve. A day dedicated to collecting pork from the market, collecting Aunt Shirls from the airport, and collating piles of no longer wanted assorted detritus, taking what's recyclable to the newly discovered recycling point downstairs where we hope it will find a new lease of life somewhere, somehow, as long as it isn't cluttering up our second bedroom any more.

A little last minute spring cleaning before the Ox takes over the new calendar year.

Baring boobs ends in bum deal

Eh, this isn't fair, is it? "A FILIPINA [pub employee] was fined $1,000 on Friday for appearing topless while dancing at a pub in Duxton Hill."

The story goes on to say she was dancng in front of a bunch of male patrons when the cops walked in. How come no one followed up on the culpability of those unnamed male patrons? I'm sure their modesty had been soooo outraged.

All quiet in the Tower

Three Titans are all that remain from the previous battle. But now Starfire has left Earth to patrol the intergalactic pathways around her home planet, Tamaran. Raven has grown much since, and is now the guardian of the extradimensional planes. Cyborg, the sole Titan still based in Jump City has his hands full with the never-ending chaos of a city fraught with imperiled citizens at every corner.

Titans Tower is often quiet now, but Cyborg is grateful that Raven still checks in on him and the mortal realm every so often. With so much going on, Jump City needs to rebuild a new team of heroes... and quickly. Could Poison Ivy be a likely candidate?

Another possible plotline for the non-existant Season Six of the Teen Titans animated series.

Yes, Mr President!

I confess to having attempted to stay up to watch Obama give his inauguration speech 'live' on CNN, but my brain initiated shut-down immediately after Biden's swearing in. Despite the long wait for things to happen, I wasn't bored, just tired.

Fortunately I could still catch a recording of it on the web:


A down-to-earth speech, practical and touches on many pertinent issues challenging the world today. It's about people having to work hard, in mutual cooperation, holding fast to strong values and looking towards a brighter future. The message is mundane, but a necessary reminder that if we are to progress forward, first we have to rebuild the economy and repair our foreign policy from basics in order to remake our present from scratch.

Gosh, suddenly I'm speaking in the first-person plural. There's something about this speech that seems to apply to everybody, whether American citizen or not.

A change of leadership

It's only a few minutes before the change in US leadership becomes official. Media hype has built up Obama's Inauguration into some kind of historical event, and the sense of it, the excitement, the expectation and anticipation are almost palpable.

The man bears the weight of the world on his shoulders. People are expecting big things from him, but in general all we want is a little more peace, a little bit more spending money. Not sure how he's gonna pull it off, but we put a lot of faith in that which is new, and for him to actually become President already signals big changes in favour of the optimistic.

I never realized how deeply-felt this change of leadership was until I came across this clip of Grade (Primary) School kids reading their letters of congratulations to their new President Elect. So young and already so politically aware.


The eyes of the world are on the man, even the children's. Could we be expecting too much? We won't know for a while yet, but in the meantime, let's just soak in the euphoria of this historic Inauguration first.

Civil servant makes a splash, gets a public dunking

For all our cosmopolitan aspirations, the vast majority of us S'poreans are still very much a kampong people. We keep a close eye on each other's behaviour and expect that all of us should conform to a certain standard of decorum in our public conduct.

That's probably fine in most situations -- we do want an orderly and safe public space to live in -- but when we set our expectations on the basis of pettiness and envy and enforce them through punishment, or in this case, public censure, I think we're causing our own brain drain. We're chasing away those who appear "different" and narrowly defining our society as only accepting of those who are equally small-minded and conformist as the rest of us.

So a top Civil Servant makes a splash of his publically-funded wages by taking a long vacation with his family to bond over exotic Parisian cuisine. And he has the temerity to publish his travelogue in the local press. But because the rest of our incomes are going down the toilet with this economic climate, we get upset because this "insensitive" individual refuses to put on an unhappy face and wallow with us in the dumps of despair. It rankles further because we feel that it's our taxpayers' money that has gone towards funding his high life, and so we can take the moral high ground to question if this is how our hard-earned taxes are to be frittered away.

The S'porean mind is complex and hard to fathom. We tell our kids to strive for success, to do everything it takes to raise their lot in life. Do better, work harder and above all, earn more money so life can be more comfortable for them and their family. And then we have this backlash directed at someone who has attained the S'porean Dream and is living the way his parents had hoped he would one day.

It's an interesting message we're sending our kids. Perhaps more than our National Pledge, that dusty old Ribena ad has done more to dictate S'porean existance for the generation that still remembers it. Two kids under a tree are having a conversation that goes like this:

'What are you drinking?'

'Ribena. My marder say it is good for me.'

'Can I have some?'

'Yes, but not too murch.'

It seems moderation in all things is the expected norm, so much so that we're now dictating how one's earned income should be spent to maintain par with the Tans of the underclass. All the more so when said income comes from taxpayer dollars. Let's see, which government department did he work in? Ah, Environment and Water Resources. Now, how much would we pay for our relatively low levels of pollution in our densely packed urban landscape? For the garbage disposal efficiency that so many of us discard our junk without thought to where it all goes, apart from away? For the swarthes of green oases blended integrally and seamlessly with our buildings and roads? For the crystal clear water from our taps we drink, wash and play in with no fear of falling sick upon contact? These conveniences are our taxpayer dollars at work. If we still lived in squalor in an environment made of crap and he was livin' it up, I'd shout "crucify him!" with the rest of the mob, but in all good conscience, I can't because I don't.

And consider this: what has he bought? Some international exposure, some new knowledge, a new skill, a cultural exchange and a potential partnership with a world-renowned institution. If only our own vacations were so focused and purposeful. Most of us just hop on a bus and drive through city after city bleary-eyed just to come home and say that we've been there. Guess we get what we pay for.

It's not the over-the-top vacation expense that worries me as much as the public response to it. It's a response that will drive our best and brightest away from our doors. If they're not appreciated here, they have the means and resources to move elsewhere where they and their money are more welcome (and good riddance because they were spoiling our kampong anyway with their extravagant lifestyles).

Even more scary than that, we're implying that dreams and aspirations have no place in our society because they don't -- or shouldn't -- come true. We take a perverse delight in tearing others down if we don't make the grade ourselves. In a different kind of society such stories tend to be celebrated instead. Think Forbes' "Made Bank?" programme on Channel 5, for example. Such societies comprise a population that is enterprising, innovative and optimistic. They're also a people that are proven to be able to pull together as they stand through hard times.

I don't know how we're going to respond as a people to this current economic situation. But if today's story is any indication, the biggest problem we face isn't the financial crisis. It's Small Penis Syndrome.

Dim sum brekkie

One more reason to celebrate living up North: taking a morning stroll up Admiralty Hill to work up an appetite, then feasting on delectable dim sum at the Dragon Phoenix perched right up there on the summit. Ok, maybe I'm overdramatizing the location a bit, but it's fun to imagine.

According to the website, the restaurant runs under the chefs whom between them have concocted some of most popular local dishes as we know them today. The take the credit for chilli crab, and the now ubiquitous annual yu shang without which no new year would be complete.

But we were only scouting the dim sum for a new year brekkie with the Wongs, and I believe we've found the perfect spot this year (last year we ended up at McD's because of a misunderstanding over our reservation at some Chinatown restaurant -- never again). Here, as long as we show up at opening time we're practically guaranteed a table. Being out of the way has its perks.

How's the food? Best pushcart dim sum I've had, ever. You know how when at a certain point the oil and grease suddenly cause you to feel like you've run into a brick wall, right? Not here. I felt I could keep ordering more and keep going. Everything was light, impacting only the tastebuds and not the stomach. Even the lo mai gai didn't just sit in my gut and make me wish the meal was over... there I was ordering egg tarts for dessert.

Cost for June and me: $40. That sounds a bit expensive, but if we had brought more people with us, the per capita cost should reduce quite significantly.

For us, the question about where we could get a good dim sum meal has now been laid to rest. Hike up the hill, and then to burn off all those calories hike back down again.

My job's in "Jeopardy"

New hat to wear this year: gameshow host. dNYel is taking one day during the J1 orientation week to run a department programme. My job is to organize and host the gameshow segment. We'll be playing Jeopardy, a very popular TV staple in the States.

Of course, our version won't have as much flash. It'll be cobbled together using PowerPoint and whatever else we can scrape together from college resources. CL dept has been kind enough to lend us their buzzers and electronic scoreboards, so today Gerald and I assembled the rather archaic looking system together and, by golly, it works! It's entirely manual, but if we can hide the manpower behind the machines -- and all the cabling that reminds me of a mass of entrails spilled all over the floor -- the whole setup should look quite impressive for our standards.

I like Jeopardy. It's a test of knowledge for the contestants, but there's also a wide range of general knowledge the audience can pick up just by watching the game. If the audience has something to root for, it should be all the more fun for everyone. Can anyone say, "inter-house game"?

What's next for NYeDC

Executive Decision: Drama Night 09 will be a festival of 10-minute plays.

Rationale: To immerse more club members in the full experience of producing a theatrical performance from beginning to end.
To offer leadership opportunities -- student Directors will source and adapt a script of their choice, scout their own talent in the casting of their play/s, and schedule and conduct the training and rehearsals necessary for a credible showing on Drama Night in mid-May 2009.

Role of external instructor: To provide training in basic theatrical skills for the club members; train student directors in the skills, duties and responsibilities pertaining to their role; ensure the quality and high standards expected of all plays submitted for Drama Night 09.

Incentives: To offer recognition in the form of Awards in the categories of Best Direction, Best Performance (Male), Best Performance (Female), Best use of Light, Best use of Sound, Best Ensemble Performance, Best "Bumph!". Rubrics to be worked out.

Long Term possibilities: 10-minute plays are minimalist and hence portable, and can be offered in collaboration with other theatrical organizations involved with community theatre, thus providing students with exposure to a public audience.
If our Awards establish themselves as being based on good, solid professional theatre practices, in subsequent years we might consider inviting other institutions to submit their own entries in addition to our own to widen the talent pool.
NYeDC becomes more like a talent training and support agency for young aspiring theatre practioners rather than just being only an interest group.

If you've read this far, my apologies. I'm working out the details of our contract with our instructor, and this stuff's been on my mind. See, work's already begun.

Hmm... hope Tina will be agreeable to this new direction for the club. Doubt I'll be able to pull this one off without her experience and clout. *crosses fingers...

Paint the hall blue!

Congrats to Team Peggy for ending off the year as House champs! We've been frustrated every year so today's announcement came as an amazingly pleasant surprise. Well done, fellow Pegs! Now let's kick some a** in 2009 too!

Pineapples to kick off the new year

CNY preparations have begun at home, kinda' early this year. The good news is that June has reverted to making her pineapple tart filling from fresh pineapples, 'stead of using the pre-packaged stuff.

We picked up 12 whole pineapples (skinned right before our eyes) from the Chinatown Market, and went looking for a hand grater by which to manually pulp the pineapples with. Then we got smart and decided to use the blending machine at home. CNY isn't so far away that we can spare the time, eh?

With mechanical assistance, June got the 12 pineapples pulped within the afternoon. Now it's all simmering in the wok to be slowly cooked over the next couple of weeks. In the meantime, June's prepping the other baked goods she's making in time to greet the season.

Hope dNYel is hungry! Festive cookies soon coming your way!

20 years from retirement

What are people looking forward to when they retire? What do they expect out of life when they hit that age when they don't have to work any more? How will they spend their time then, and how will they continue obtaining the resources that they need to sustain themselves over the next couple of decades or so, assuming that everything goes according to the best-case biological plan?

For many people, their goal is to slog it out in the here and now so that they can retire and "enjoy life". They'd spend their time then taking care of family matters, which they are too busy to take care of in their working years. They'd have time on their hands, not needing to watch the clock any longer and they can do whatever they want because they are forever free of deadlines and superiors. With the money they've frugally saved over their long careers, they'd have the means to live out their lives as comfortably as they have become accustomed to. Ah, the golden age of retirement... heh, if only.

Just barely 20 years away from retirement age, and already the prospect scares me. I'm an instant gratification kind of guy, and if I wasn't already enjoying life now, I doubt very much I'd enjoy it anytime later. Besides, if we're too busy for those nearest and dearest to us right now, there's no reason to assume that our presence will be appreciated then when they've grown too busy for us.

Well, maybe except as cheap day-care for our grands whose parents can't find the time to look after them themselves. And then there goes the no-deadline, no-watching-clock ideal. Junior has to be in school by 7, fetched and ferried around after-school activities from 3, be home in bed by 8, thanks very much. No mahjong for you Pa, the boy has an exam tomorrow, remember? Oh yah, your Alzheimer's. Meds three times a day after meals, and for goodness sake go change your diaper NOW, ok?

And that's for people with family. Lots of us DINKS today don't even have that to look forward to because of our decision to opt out of that Wonderful Life. If we're going to stay relevant we're going to have to keep proving day after day that we can still run with the pack, pretty much until we can't any more. And at 62-65 I believe we can still run with the best of them, so unless things have gone seriously wrong physically, I'd still feel too young to retire. Ask me again in 20 years.

And as for retirement savings, I think the past year has been a big reality check for us all in that we can't trust in the value of our accumulated wealth. So much that people had stashed away for a rainy day got washed away in the financial tsunami. Cash-rich one day, peniless the next -- and not necessarily due to anything that was of their own doing either. When idyllic fantasy met unthinkable reality, we learned the hard way that financial wealth is merely imagination working overtime on our behalf. Stings, doesn't it?

I think I'll continue working because I feel I should earn my keep, past glories notwithstanding. People today have neither memory nor gratitude so just because I might have been a career whiz before, there is no obligation for others to let me rest on my laurels while they are doing their best to topple my achievements, break my records, and leave me in their dust. Fact of life. It's what we hope for, anyway, every subsequent generation to better its predecessors. That's progress.

I fear irrelevance. I may be a misanthrope raising my fist at everyone around me, but I still need people around me to raise my fist to. I view retirement as an eventuality that will put me out of the game, especially as I don't forsee having a family around me to abuse me in return. No, I don't wanna retire. Heck, I don't even wanna grow up.

Are you happy at work?

These days, I don't wake up for work with especial dread. Yes, there are days when I'd much prefer to stay in bed 'cos the day looks like it's going to be a long, draining one, but at least now I can step forth knowing I'll actually be missed if I wasn't there. That's stronger motivation than just having to show up at work because the consequences for absenteesm are dire.

My job itself is anything but boring and routine. There are so many opportunities to try on different hats apart from being the elbow-patched drone at the chalk whyteboard. For example, there is such a diversity of CCAs on campus that when we get deployed to look after different activities from time to time, we can't help but pick up new skills along the way. After all, we have to at least look like we know what we're doing if we want our kids to trust that we know what we're doing.

For me, I've had the opportunity to play theatre (and movie!) director and producer, I had to learn from scratch to be a hard-nosed news publisher, and even though I was terrible at debates I still learned to appreciate a good argument. And all that from just being involved in CCAs alone.

Every new hat unlocks new areas of creativity for me to dabble in. Occasionally I amaze myself when some ideas work -- "Admiral" was the one best example of this happening -- though most of the time when I make a mess of things it was because the learning curve was steeper than I had anticipated. But I still gained from the experience, or the attempt anyway.

So the job's ok, I guess. Can't really complain. But to say I like my work would also be to say I like the people I work with. It's really rare to find such a combination of friends among my colleagues with whom we share more than work. We are all very good at what we do, but at the same time, we don't take ourselves too seriously either. We spend time hangin' out with each other, just as much as we have formal meetings planning strategy, curriculum, pedagogy and other concepts represented by big words. But our most important meetings are breakfast and lunch talking about, uh, less consequential things.

Are you happy with your job? You may be good at what you do, no doubt, but if you want to know how happy you are at work, one effective indicator is to see who you go to lunch with.

As it turns out, my lunch partners seem to be dwindling in number somewhat... it's going to be an interesting year.

Too stupid to quit

Hi Selene! In your private comment, you observed that I sound like I like my work, and you wished you could say the same about yours.

First, I have to say that I have had my share of sucky jobs before. I spent years as a mindless corporate zombie, sharpening pencils and pouring coffee for other people. The work itself wasn't tough but it was to me utterly pointless... except for the pencils. Every day I'd wake up feeling that I was just a tiny cog contributing to some bazillionaire's vast financial empire and getting in return little more than a couple of grand a month to "buy something nice" for myself.

Too stupid to quit, too. I would have felt like such a loser to quit (how that philosophy got popular, I'll never know). It took an untimely retrenchment for me to strike out on a different career path leading to where I am today. Which is where, exactly? Wait, let me moralize a bit first. *drags out soapbox to stand on and waggles right index finger pontifically in the air

We don't always find the best match right away. In times like these, we're grateful to have any job at all, sucky or otherwise. While in the grind, we may chafe and whine, but for those of us who pay enough attention, we learn something about ourselves -- our motivations, perhaps, or the kinds of people we prefer to interact with, or the needs we derive most satisfaction in helping others fulfil -- something that will help point us in the direction to go next. 

Next entry: Liking Work

p.s., happy (very) belated Christmas! It's an entry I started and forgot about. Finished it today.

Hello 2009

Yay! First entry for the year. A year older and more sedate, we spent our countdown hours at a simple dinner with friends. Good to know I still have some. Heh.

If I were the resolution-making sort, I'd probably consider doing something about living more healthily... maybe a better diet and more exercise. Maybe I should also stop entertaining Bad Idea Bears so often too. After some lousy choices, my sleep schedule's totally messed up, and I get the feeling there's still some work somewhere at the back of my mind crying out to be finished. The usual types of resolutions then.

As adults are wont to say, let's see. Meantime, let's all look forward to a great new year, whatever our circumstances. :)

Bright, shiny and new

The reopening of an old mall has inextricable tied me to my neighbourhood once and for all. The crappy old mall from long ago has had a major facelift and it's back in business looking sharp, bright and shiny, and boasting some big retail names as tenants.

With all my material needs easily taken care of just a short distance from my own doorstep, there is no more need for me to go gallivanting any further. Hung out there already, twice in two days, and it has been an effort to not buy any more stuff (especially from the electronics haven on the ground floor!) than just a quick meal. Just because things are available doesn't mean I have to get it all now, right?

Yes. Life in the North...

An Arts House wedding

Congrats, Yee! Attended his wedding at the Arts House this afternoon. It was a very pleasant, easy-going service led mostly by Yee himself before he relinquished the microphone to a good-natured JP who presided over the legal formalities. Each of his guests received a personalized gift for attending based on his impressions of us or what he could recall of us. For instance, I received ice-cream vouchers due to a couple of escapades with him at Haagen-Dazs, and June got a pretty egg-shaped music-box (no, not a Faberge, quit drooling) because he remembered she likes music boxes. Yee knows how to put his personal touch to events he organizes. Would have loved to stay and hang out longer, but there was a turkey in the fridge that needed roasting.

Haven't done a Christmas thing at our place for a long time, so now that we've got our new digs, there was every reason to play host again. June wore the chef's hat tonight. She has the recipe for the roast turkey and ham nailed down, but she's been experimenting all week to discover the secret of a good pumpkin soup. With me as guinea pig, we ascertained a couple of key factors: it has to be butternut pumpkin (ours came from Mustafa, cheap and good), and it needs a sprinkle of powdered nutmeg and hand-squeezed OJ to take the edge off. There's still some in the fridge, along with the turkey leftovers. Guess what we're having for dinner tomorrow night?

Christmas. Wet. Dream.

I'm dreaming of a wet Christmas

Just like the ones in Singapore.

Where umbrellas mushroom

and thunder goes, "boom,"

As the Mon-soon visits us once more

I'm dreaming of a wet Christmas

With every pressie that I buy

May our dollar maintain as high

Though the forecasts say it's gonna fry.

(with apologies to Irving Berlin)

Early Christmas at Porta Porta

The Days of Feasting have begun! June and I are celebrating the season early at Porta Porta, a quaint little Italian eatery roughly opposite Changi Prison, if you are looking for directions. I haven't been here in years, but the place is as charming as I remember -- an oasis of old-time Euro tucked away in this odd out-of-the-way location.

Mussels are turning out to be our favourite starter! Here we have a deep dish of mussels in red sauce. Must say, the sauce packs a lot of body, a good thing to counter the mussels which were a little on the chewy side.

June went conservative with her usual spaghetti vongole. I was craving MEAT and the leg of lamb did not disappoint: boneless and all-lean, yet so tender, just so faintly pink and juicy. It came with a side of eggplant which I do not like, generally, but somehow I can stomach it if it's done Mediterranean style. Don't ask why.

All that and a bowl of minnestrone came up to a hair over $50 per person. Not too bad considering we're celebrating Christmas for two. Mass gorging with family commences tomorrow!

He who carries the biggest stick

I went to watch The Day the Earth Stood Still with no high expectations and true enough it turned out to be quite mediocre. I'm tired of the number of morality plays that tell us to curb our excesses and give a thought to our planet. Yes, I know it's an important message and I buy into it a great deal... well, sort of... but I've heard more exciting versions of it in more exciting films already.

DESS is a remake of the 1951 movie of the same title, with roughly the same message: to stop our nonsense (violence, resource depletion, pollution, you name it) or be exterminated as a favour to the rest of the species who share our planet. It's parallel to the biblical tale of the Ark and the Flood in which the whole earth gets scrubbed clean of the mess people have made of it and then life gets to start afresh all over again.

Interesting enough premise, I suppose, but where things go wrong for me is the misplaced sense of scale in the struggle to convince Klaatu, the alien... um, assessor being, that humanity still has a chance to atone for ourselves before the "Flood" washes us all away. Given the impending disaster is global in nature, it does not make much logical sense for Klaatu to base his judgement simply on the behaviour of the two individuals he has made some meaningful contact with. 

Statistically, the sample size just isn't representative enough of the entire human population to make that kind of a decision. Nor is the time scale sufficient -- what, 24 hours? -- to make such an earth-shattering pronouncement on the people of the earth. For a being representing many advanced civilizations, Klaatu seems a bit over-anxious to make up his mind about us.

OK, I know it's pointless to argue movie logic, but there isn't much excitement to carry us through either. Klaatu (and his bodyguard, the 40 foot tall cyclopean G.O.R.T.) represent an unstoppable force none of our terrestrial weaponry and technology has any effect on. Herein lies the big cosmic double standard: Klaatu say you all play nice with one another and with me, or G.O.R.T. will unleash such violence upon you the human race will not survive to see another day. So really, he who carries the biggest stick gets to walk the softest of us all.

It doesn't help that Keanu Reeves has finally succumbed to all the jokes made about his acting and has been cast to play the entirely wooden, expressionless Klaatu. There's a role written especially for him! I couldn't connect with him, nor any of the other characters so I didn't particularly care how it all would turn out in the end. That, I think, is the greatest tragedy in this script.

On the plus side, dinner was quite enjoyable. The Mussel Guys at Vivo serves up a fabulous cast iron pot of steaming Belgian Mussels in white wine sauce. Never before have I had such succulent mussels in such a potent soup -- all garlicky and almost herbal in flavour. There's a 2-for-1 deal for Citi card holders this season, but too bad neither I nor June have one. The accompanying seafood pasta we ordered was so-so, but at least now I know where we can get good mussels. Yums!

Read any Questionable Content lately?

I think my GRADUATED students and older readers would enjoy "Questionable Content" (QC) as much as I. That is to say, current students please wait till you have left college before you pick it up -- it'll be more meaningful to you then.

The characters in QC are familiar, reminiscent of my own circle of friends who are young, single, and dealing with the issue of relationships themselves. There's always a tension between platonic friendship and sexual attraction, and because that often leads to awkward situations there's a lot of humour in how the main characters balance respectable restraint with careless flirtation, the fun they have in each others' company and having conversations laced with graphic innuendo.

Much of the humour is wry and dry, but there are the occasional laugh out loud moments as the reader gets blindsided by a bizarre comment or response. The dialogue is witty, clever and sharp; and it's been a page turner for me 'cos it's fun to see how far Marten and Faye will get on with each other as friends and housemates, but never as lovers though it's obvious that they so want to.

Actually, I know how it turns out for them since I discovered QC only recently, but I've been reading QC from the very first strip to understand the circumstances in which they and their supporting characters are in now. I'm taking it in blocks of 50 strips a day so far, and it's still going to take me many more days to catch up with the current content (as of today, QC is at the 1297th strip). NBS will pedantically calculate it to 26.5 days now that she has the relevant data.

It's also interesting to watch an artist develop his art. Jeph Jacques has been drawing this webcomic for nearly five years now and in that time his initial crude line drawings have evolved into more realistic-looking people. Also, he's put in many more characters and created a more complex relationship web, but it's the consistency of his characters that make them believable: their expressions, postures and gestures are apt and emote well with the dialogue.

I don't really know why I find QC so engaging. Perhaps it's because the characters are easy to identify and identify with. They live regular, mundane existences but they get by with a little help from their friends, and that's what gets to me most. There's nothing like having a small, tight circle of good friends to keep one sane in this world.

Things that make my wife scream

I dunno, turning the living room TV into a 42" PC monitor just might be one of them!