Parenting according to Gru

Parenting, according to Gru, is a simple process. Take care of basic needs: "food, water, poo poo & pee pee". Take care of intellectual needs: basic education (dance class). Take care of higher needs: recreation and emotional bonding. Despite himself, he gets the childcare right -- a textbook Hierarchy of Needs met to Maslow's specifications.

Gru has no plans "for their good". On the contrary, his plans are entirely self-serving. His adopted orphans are simply a means to an end. Their safety and well-being are taken at the basic minimum standards, knowing that he can dispose of them when they have fulfilled his requirements of them. How heinous.

Why do we face a declining fertility rate in our country and in many other developed nations around the world? Because we want to be good parents. Gru is a monster in his regard for childcare principles, but he's got three kids while the rest of us have... significantly less.

As good parents, we place our kids first above all, ourselves included. We plan far ahead into their future, shape them according to what we have determined is best for them, and raise them like we're never going to let them go. We know about hygiene and health, about discipline do's and don't's, about child psychology and labels like ADHD and OCD which we identify in children and lament how we have failed them somewhere, somehow.

Our modern model of childcare looks really good. We've taken care of every aspect of child-rearing that practically guarantees healthy, happy kids that will grow into healthy, happy adults. Now, if only we had some kids to work our plans on.

Throwing punches

Sully has a new kind of training to add to my repertoire: boxing. Today I learned the basic movements to maintain a stable base from which to launch my deadly arsenal of jabs and crosses. I'd always thought I was a good scrapper, but when put to the test today my technique left much to be desired. Stance too easily sent off-balance; lax defending exposes my glass jaw to counter-attack; difficulty stringing jab-cross-duck combos together being too anxious to punch and not anxious enough to duck, or getting my limbs all tangled up due to a lack of coordination. What a pushover I'd be in a real fight, despite my illusions to the contrary. Lots more training to be done still.

RHD skit

The latest batch of Drama Club kids have taken the reins. Their first official performance was a short skit for Racial Harmony Day. They had only one week to script, rehearse and polish, but they were all gung-ho go-for-it. We seldom see this kind of enthusiasm, so we let them run with it.

First rehearsal, we had a basic outline. The characters were caricatures of our national ethnic stereotypes, the plot was thin, the resolution fuzzy at best. Definitely still needed a lot of work before it could be ready for show.

During rehearsal, my biggest worry was that the stereotypes would stand out stronger than the theme we had been commissioned to convey. True enough (as I hear from the grapevine), the kids played it for laughs, going over-the-top with their characters -- Chinese boy in particular -- resulting in a greatly mixed reaction from the audience. The kids in the audience seemed somewhat tickled, but the staff were aghast by the colour of the language used onstage, the resolution was still vague and inconclusive.

Great learning opportunity for our little aspiring artists: improv is fantastic for rehearsals because it always adds new dimensions to the development of a scene, character or plot; but there is no place for ad libbing during the performance of a commissioned piece.

Like it or not, the sponsor does not care for artistic licence or pointless, raucous comedy. The sponsor wants a specific message to get through to the audience, that's all. At least, don't do anything to embarrass the sponsor by association. Fail to deliver and face the curtailment of funding or even a lawsuit. We're lucky such consequences are not looking for us as a result of this performance.

Again, from what I hear, the audience did learn something from our performance: Chinese boy's ad libbed expletive-laden phraseology. Which wasn't exceptionally vulgar, but still, not the kind of language to use in polite company.

Sigh. They've only just started ,and already so much damage we need to get under control.

Wake of a stranger

Attended the wake of a stranger. We didn't know her personally, but she was a fellow volunteer at Gift of Love who passed away suddenly over the last couple of days. From what we've been hearing, Mdm W Wong was there twice to three times a week cooking for the residents, shuttling the sisters around on their errands and driving the ambulance as the need arose. The hole she has left behind is a big one to fill.

But as the Father who led this morning's service did not present a eulogy, neither will I. Instead, like him, I will present my own homily. The circumstances surrounding Mdm W's passing were as such: she'd been complaining of severe pains in her stomach for some time, though she put off seeking medical advice. When the pain finally became unbearable, it was too late. As I understand the story, appendicitis killed her. Her passing was all the more tragic as it might have been avoided with a simple medical procedure, had she sought attention early enough.

Mdm W really did give her all to follow the command of "love your neighbour...", and if more of us did likewise, that could help us solve  a lot of our human social problems. But we also need to remember the follow up to this Mosaic injunction, "... as yourself" (Lev 19:18). Yes, it's good to place other's needs before our own, but if we aren't feeling well, we should love ourselves too, and break off helping others at least long enough to find out what's wrong first, fix the problem, then go back and continue helping others.

We people need to be needed. Being able to lend a hand, or to be depended upon for one thing or another is an uplifting experience, one we wish to continue experiencing. Whether it's bringing food to old folks or consulting worried students after class, it feels good to be able to fill that need and contribute to another person's well-being. But as volunteers and teachers, let's also be mindful of our physical and psychological health, and step back for a while as and when we are tired or sick. There will always be someone else that can fill in for us, so the choice is ours: do we want our position filled temporarily, or permanently?

If we build it, they will come (eventually)

Quite a large group of soccer legends from past days of glory showed up on our campus field for a game. It was reminiscent of 'Field of Dreams', though it took more than three decades after we had built it for them to come. Some names like Abbas, Rafi and Tong Hai were familiar as were their faces, but others like Samad, Rajagopal and T Pathma had greyed beyond recognition, except to the more senior of us.

Greyed out or not, the old boys could still pull off an exciting match. Ok, not the "rah rah" kind but the they've-still-got-the-moves kind. Attacking football all the way, though admittedly it was this end that got attacked the most.

Abbas of the Shiny Pate put in more than his fair share of goals. Here he casually taps in #2 with more to follow. I can't believe he was found guilty of "match fixing" back in those days. The way he played, he was too hungry to let any goal opportunity pass him by. Can you say, "McCarthy witch hunt"?

Our campus team comprising staff and students got to play a half against the All-Stars' not-so-senior side. It'll be a day they will long remember with pride. Tales will pass on to the next generation how grandpa shared a game with the National team, some of whom won the M-League and M-Cup, iconic moments in our local sporting history.

Our campus team didn't fare too badly though the action was still camped mostly in our half. 

Wayne will never forget this moment when his crush crash with Rafi resulted in the two having a brief roll in the grass together. Wayne may never shower again.

And there goes the final whistle. The score... er, was anyone keeping track? Guess the biggest winner was our campus team for just having played the game.

Thanks for the game, All-Stars! Let's do it again sometime!

And one more item of note: though the duck appeared serenely gliding over the water, few would have seen the duck's feet furiously paddling like mad to keep it afloat. But that isn't really my story to tell...

Who can it be knocking at my door?

The TV was too loud to ignore the ringing of my doorbell. I'd just discovered a slew of new HD channels on cable and was fully enjoying the full benefits of digital media when the interruption occurred. Without a chance to pretend no one was home, I had to go see who was calling.

As usual, another salesman-type, this one purporting to represent the Community Chest collecting funds for wheelchairs for the disabled. It all looked quite legitimate, with serialized receipts and the name of the Community Chest in bold on some small print of a document he was showing me through my firmly barred front gate. Does the Community Chest really come around door-to-door soliciting donations? Do they afterwards make the donor write their particulars down on a form so that an "official" receipt can be sent later?

There were too many unanswerable questions and my closed mind was not prepared to accept long explanations from an itinerant supplicant outside my door -- "Family Guy" (in HD; but there isn't any real point to watch an animated series in HD, is there?) was on and I really wanted to get back to my sofa ASAP. Plus, being recently suspicious of charity appeals, having been bilked of my goodwill once too often, I politely declined and sent him on his way.

But what if his case was a genuine one? What if I had turned away an opportunity to help someone who really needed it? I find it so difficult to tell on a case-by-case basis any more and I am no longer as eager as I was to give the benefit of the doubt now. I blame society.

Don't try this at home

Have you heard Corrine May's new song in celebration of NDP 2010? It's called "Song for Singapore" and May renders it beautifully in the vid above.

But as an NDP song, I'm afraid tone-deaf people like me can't sing along. Though the lyrics are cliched familiar enough for a heartlander (and the avid Sesame Street viewer) to identify with, the rhythms and melody are difficult to follow unless you are as talented as she is.

National propaganda songs are best composed with tribally basic repetitive beats you can count with the fingers on one Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle hand. They are akin to nursery rhymes that stick in your head and irritate you until you sing them aloud to get them out of your system. They are so basic you can sing them out of tune and no one would even notice. Thus, they are memorable even against a rational citizen's wishes and are hence iconic.

May's new song, sadly, should come with a warning label: "This propaganda tool contains extreme euphony and should only be performed by a trained professional. Kids, don't try it at home."

Generational gap closing fast

Nephew, Eugene, got married yesterday. We never knew him as "Eugene" before, always referring to him by his more ethnic name. Sigh, still not used to receiving wedding invites addressing June and me as "Uncle and Auntie", especially when the Nephew is already an established career professional and not THAT much younger than us.

Dinner was at the Stamford Ballroom at which the clan shared three tables. Youngest nephew was at my table, or to put it more accurately, under my table where he decided to spend most of the evening. His primary activities included dropping cutlery and utensils on the floor and for a while he prostrated himself between the aisles in some undeclared protest.

Sometimes you wish they'd grow up faster; but before you know it they're already married and gone. Cue "Sunrise, sunset"...!

Drama Club BBQ, and a random cat pix

Oops, did I interrupt whatever you two boys were doing? Sorry!

Drama Club kids bid farewell to their seniors -- one last hurrah before momentum picks up and hurtles us through to the end of year exams. Apart from the sporadic, often failed attempts to dunk random victims in the condo pool, it was an easy, remarkably sane and civilized cast & crew party to celebrate Wow!Pow!Bow! 2010 and thank various club members for their contribution to it's success.

NYeDC is now in the hands of an organized and by-the-book exco, if tonight's event is anything to go by. Just as well. Admin is such a nightmare for me, and if the kids are willing to pitch in and help me out, I'll be the more grateful for them.

Wearing out our freedoms

Given a choice between wearing a bikini and a headscarf (of the religious sort), would anyone actually choose the latter voluntarily? It seems counter-intuitive to think so, but perhaps that's because we have certain cultural biases that value the freedom of wearing whatever we damn well please over the freedom to cover up our bodies and not call attention to ourselves.

Yes, they're both freedoms, but the sad thing is, it's a zero-sum game: we have to choose one freedom over the other; and regardless of which we choose, when we find ourselves running with a crowd of 'the other' we do call attention to ourselves like it or not. In that situation things can get uncomfortable, if not hostile.

The two choices of dress reflect two mutually exclusive philosophies regarding the self. The headscarf route is taking the comfort of anonymity, hiding oneself to look exactly like everyone else so that there can be no basis of comparison between one female individual and another. Regardless of what she looks like -- fat, skinny, flat-chested, pot-bellied, knockout gorgeous or hunchbacked -- everyone looks like a generic 9mm slug, and that's ok because no physical characteristic can possibly make her self-conscious or feel the need to do anything about it. Being comfortable with oneself, knowing there can be no pre-judgement from other people over the trivial matter of physical appearance is one of the best freedoms the world can afford.

Wearing a bikini represents the freedom to, um, I'm not really sure what. Bikinis show off things about oneself that we'd rather not show. We're constantly worried that we could come undone and reveal more than what we're prepared to reveal. What it does is that it places the responsibility of our presentability in public squarely on our own individual shoulders. To ensure the right things stick out and keep the wrong things tucked in  requires Work. It means eating right (in most cases that's mistaken for eating less); it means a punishing exercise regimen to sculpt and maintain a shape that first satisfies the self (good luck with that) and then satisfies others. And yet, not be too satisfying to the wrong others to avoid attracting unwelcome attention. That's a lot of rules to follow, many of which lie in fuzzy grey areas, for what we consider our "freedom".

Me, I'm not really sympathetic to either camp. I myself have never lived in fear of a wardrobe malfunction; nor been a victim of lascivious staring; nor had any such related problem. Regardless of what I wear, I swear I'm quite invisible to the crowd. I imagine even if I wore my skimpiest speedos in public few would notice the pasty apparition ambulating in their midst -- except for a sensitive minority mainly comprising  small children who would react in horror, recoil from the ghastly sight and maybe have nightmares for weeks after.

The happiest women, I think, are the ones who wear bikinis and can't be bothered about what anyone thinks of them. Think I saw some of those in Florida...

In case you're wondering, I'm just musing over "Bikini or headscarf -- which offers more freedom?"

Power failure

In the case of my mobile phone, low batt DOES effectively mean no batt.

Perfect 10

June arranged for us to have dinner with Adrian and Jen. In our search for someplace to eat, 10@Claymore's "Plates of Pleasure" promotion topped the list. Everything on the menu (above) in unlimited servings, plus the rest of the buffet spread. The 4-dine-for-3 deal for participating credit cards was the final deciding factor. 

Here is the saucy little fillet mignon that I had my eye on. I didn't really need to see the rest of the menu, this was priority number one. A very decent steak, cut large enough to savour but not so large as to overwhelm the appetite. There were so many other things to sample besides. Oh, the pinkish mass just below the asparagus spear (above) is mashed beetroot, which tasted way better than it sounds.

Adrian shows off his latest inspiration: a "canape" comprising a beetroot base and topped with avocado, alfalfa and a sprinkle of almond shavings. Each ingredient is strong-tasting on its own but combined, the tastes sort of cancel each other out, making a rather palatable blend of flavours. Night of strange tastes -- I thought the blue cheese on Carr's crackers was fantastic too.

Jen and June gamely sample Chef Adrian's new concoction.

It was a pleasant evening mostly devoted to discussing our individual mid-life crises over unlimited portions of food.

Final parting shot: remember the 10!

Steamrolled

Have to take my hat off to the octopus. The Xmac curse finally came to an emphatic end with the German World Cup machine stamping its authority all over the Argies, 4-0. This is one time I didn't mind losing to an invertebrate in a contest of prognostication. And if his foresight saves him from becoming tomorrow's tako-ball, more power to him! Great job, Paul!

And in the pix, Germany has another proud supporter of the non-human animal species. Yes, Q-tip, nice jersey.

Xmac vs. the octopus

The Xmac curse strikes the World Cup 2010 yet again. Brazil has been KO'ed out of the tournament by a very determined Dutch team 2-1.

In terms of clairvoyance, I've been just about as accurate as Paul, the soothsaying octopus in this competition. Except the teams I've picked to win end up losing. Well, let's see whether Paul or I can maintain our record at the Argentina vs Germany quarter-final tomorrow. Since we've both picked the land of sauerkraut to prevail over the dreaded Argies, one of us will definitely be wrong.

Systems overhaul

As my trainer, John was consistent and predictable. His method was to get me used to a routine and slowly, gradually increase the load. He'd challenge me to lift a little more from the previous session, and depending on my caprice, I'd either humour him or politely decline.

But John's gone home to his FT country and now I'm in the hands of Sully. Sully's approach is a lot more varied. My repertoire now includes balance training on bouncy pilates balls; flexibility training through manipulating medicine balls and free weights (no, not at the same time -- not yet, anyway); and stamina building on some of the other hamster-wheel type cardio devices which I've been previously avoiding 'cos they look either boring or dangerous.

Sully also watches my form carefully, making corrections and adjustments to stance, to grip, so that I feel the burn at the right places. Lower weight resistance, but more reps. I think he knows it isn't muscle strength I want, it's better functioning heart and lungs that I need.

Every session is a pain to go through, but this old, broken down bod seriously needs an overhaul. I must see this programme through!

World Cup 'live', sort of

For all my bluster over refusing to subscribe to the World Cup cablecast, I've still taken to watching some games via 'live' streaming. Horrible resolution; persistently inturrupted signal -- the last two goals Germany scored against England missed due to buffering lag  (4-1 wt*?! when streaming resumed); sudden jump cuts as streaming regains sync with real time (meaning that I hear my downstairs neighbour cheering seconds before I see the goal); and occasional signal backouts that last minutes, or until I refresh the page... sometimes not even then.

But I have nothing to complain about. It's free. Still, I wonder why I bother at all. Every team I've been rooting for has lost. Consistently. Anyone need a betting tip? Just ask me who I fancied for that match and bet the opposing team. Sure win one!

Out of the frying pan

Now that I've got used to one Personal Torturer, John, he's upped and left Cali for personal reasons -- hope your dad gets better real soon! Today, I got my first session with my new PT, Sully. Looks like Sully's personal mission is to turn scrawny 98 lbs weaklings like Steve Rogers into Captain America without the use of performance-enhancing drugs. Welcome to a new level of hell.

Start your engines

I've been in hibernation. Long hols effectively cut me off from social interaction. There's little reason to meet anyone, no collaborative agenda to accomplish, hardly any requirement to leave the house except for meals or the occasional airing. In this state of temporary isolation, one gets out of practice with basic conversational skills and when everyone is called back to commemorate the end of our social winter, the buzz of meeting everyone again takes quite some getting used to.

We are facing down the last weekend right now. The engine's been idling, now engaging first gear... Staff spent half the day with our usual pre-term opening meeting and being introduced to the newbies joining our ranks effective immediately. Second half my group got a tour of Jurong Island -- a rarely-seen section of our little nation because there really is no reason to go see it on a casual basis. It's a mass of storage facilities, a spaghetti of pipes running all over the place, steel geometric structures everywhere at a scale that the layman's mind can scarcely take it all in.

It's Mordor, only much cleaner and far more orderly. Probably every single thing that has been manufactured for mass consumption has passed through this tiny section of this tiny island as some form of petro-chemical raw material. I couldn't help thinking about our contribution to global warming considering how much toxic greenhouse gas and other materials we're processing right here and shipping off to the rest of the world.

Capped off the day with a refreshingly mundane meeting of friends at Amy's. A great chance to practice my social skills before term starts. Two birthdays to celebrate over fried chix, Japanese pizza(!) and chocolate cake. I think we must have hit some kind of chronological barrier because the Wii was promising a really mad, noisy session of hilarity and general chaos, but we spent the evening in table conversation and general gossip instead. And everyone, myself included, preferred it that way.

Stop copying me!

Excuse me, we do so teach our JC kids how to avoid plagiarism. It's called "UYOWAFAS", a persistent feature in the GP compre paper. What does it stand for? "Use you own words as far as possible." Now you know what it's for.

As far as citing sources go, the kids practice that in Project Work. I wonder if this skill should be practiced in GP too? Would anyone kill me for suggesting that idea?

Tails & Trails

Q-tip meets her fellow participants, not at a gathering of World Cup fans but at Royal Canin's Tails & Trails '10 Doggie-thon at ECP.

According to the dogs, Germany will lead the pack in South Africa this year. 

Apart from the 2km walk along the beach (Q-tip had to be carried the final quarter) we entered her in the "Endurance" contest. The idea is for the contestants to be offered delicious Royal Canin doggie treats and the dogs that could resist the temptation the longest would win a prize.

We knew Q-tip would win easily. She gets nervous in crowds and won't accept strange food from strangers. We walk away with a dog-toy, doggie-treats and the red thing sticking out is a lean-to tent! How odd.

Cool! Latte, Q-tip's new friend has come to join in the festivities too!

"It's not Karate..."

One of my movie faves for 2010 has to be the "The Karate Kid". It's a remake of an old movie, similar in premise and formula, but done with less tongue-in-cheek and more thoughtfulness. The whole movie considers cross-cultural relations, how embracing difference and change is a real advantage, and how territorialism has no place in these times when borders and ideas are shared so easily around the world.

The conflict, and often the humour of this production are in the interactions of the diverse characters struggling for their place in a place that no longer has a historical precedent to fall back on. Beijing has become home to Dre Parker, a black American boy who; backed into a corner has to learn Chinese kung fu; his new friend, Mei Ying is Chinese but is training to play Eruopean classical music; while Cheng holds fast to his national pride and chooses to exclude the new foreigner in the neighbourhood.

With Jackie Chan at the helm, the fight sequences are intense, the choreography a joy to watch. There is a flow and a consistency to each punch, each kick, though the pace never lets up. But through Dre's training we see that though martial prowess may be the medium of instruction, what he is really learning is respect, humility and harmony that helps him fit into his new environment. Ultimately, the fights are not about winning or losing but learning to respect one another in the spirit of competition.

Yes, we've all seen this formula before, but somehow this movie treats the formula with an almost absolute belief in it. It's in the contrast between scrapping on the mean city streets and in the philosophical teachings set against the serenity of a Chinese temple on  mountaintop, or along the monumental historical Great Wall -- reminding us that our history is still tremendously important to us and modern life is still tightly intertwined with it.

A lot of credit goes to Jaden Smith for the respect he gives to his role, and for rising to the challenge in creating a character which we can feel for and readily lend our support to. When the whole stadium choruses "jiayou" in support of the injured foreigner against his brutal adversary, that's interesting because the audience is rooting for human values over blind nationalism.

Nice. But I wonder, why do the Americans think they can pick up a skill (even a philosophy) in a matter of weeks, when others have to train a lifetime to reach the same level? I suppose that's just the magic of the movies.

Soccer means that much

Like so many other cable subscribers, I've resisted picking up the World Cup package. I'm no revolutionary taking part in a revolt against greedy, overcharging media content providers. I actually sympathise with our two cable companies who, I give the benefit of the doubt, had themselves been overcharged for the rights to cablecast all those matches 'live' from South Africa. Apparently, someone thinks soccer means that much to our TV watching population. Guess they're wrong.

It's a simple matter of economics. A typical householder like me wouldn't mind paying a small premium like we did at the last World Cup, but to pay $94.16 for this current package means that we will have to watch every single match in order to make our every sheckle count. Even at the early-bird price (which has been likened to the cost of a cup of coffee per 'live' game), I have no desire to drink that much coffee nor do I feel the need to watch every game. Especially not when free-to-air TV is broadcasting just the big matches which I am more likely to watch. Hey, I do so have a life.

Anyway, we have already accomplished our Goal 2010. Mr Mah just got the sport wrong.

No place for old men

Two days in a row, and I can't find a decent place to bowl. My usuals have had their lanes booked out by schools which have somehow cottoned on to the idea that bowling is a great activity to introduce their kids to. Considering the miserable weather, I'm not surprised they're bringing their kids indoors. But it's deep into the summer hols; why can't they just leave their kids alone and not organize them so much?

I did, however, scrape a lane from Orchid Bowl. No little kids bringing the roof down with their din, no little kids swinging from the chandeliers, no little kids at all. Bliss. But Orchid Bowl is showing its age. Clunky bowler input interface; basic overhead score display sans exciter graphics; bumpy potentially ball-damaging retrieval system. Everything looks and feels in need of updating, nothing to bring the little kids running here. Maybe I've found the right place to bowl after all.

Saw some national team players training here too. The lanes are slightly longer so they're good for training accuracy; the pins are slightly heavier and don't bounce around much, so it's more challenging to bowl strikes. That's what makes this place a good training ground.

Scored 159 for a four game average. Out of practice. : P

Calories out, calories in

Faith is leaving the house while the sky is overcast and drizzly, while pointing the car in the direction of the beach. PT, John, has been persuading me to get off the treadmill and try the exercise bike or something else for a change, so I decided to get on a real bike and work my cardio on the ECP instead.

I like the treadmill at Cali 'cos it faces three large TV screens. When I tread, my attention is on the programmes. My mind blanks out and though my body's huffing and sweating I can keep right on going, no problem. But with the exercise bike, I have to keep watching the meter and maintain 90 RPMs while simultaneously watching the clock and the calorie-burn readout. Do you have any idea how stressful that is? No, thanks. I'm sticking to my treadmill, so there.

ECP rewarded my faith with dry weather. It was cloudy and breezy, very little sun but no rain. Perfect for biking, lousy for a tan. Have to remember not to rent bikes from the rental outlet at the McD's block, at least until they update their stock. Actually, I wouldn't be so miffed if I hadn't been so effortlessly overtaken by an expat couple while I was pedalling like mad on mine.

Phase II was bowling. What is it about today? The lanes have been overrun with schoolchildren, leaving me with nothing. Gave up looking for lanes and had lunch instead, hence the pix above.

Rack of lamb, so tender. Poke the meat with a fork and bloody juices flow. Release the fork and the meat absorbs everything it leaked out before. I've never seen anything like that. I could have done without the breaded outer layer, but I really enjoyed this set lunch. Beaulieu house, Sembawang Park. At $35 for the set, it was pricier than I remember. But it was a fair price to pay for this kind of quality.

No eat, no work

Not eating before a workout burns more fat, says this Belgian study. Maybe so, but my personal experience says if you want to spend your time collapsed on the fitness centre floor than actually exercising, then go ahead and not eat. Wonder how much fat that kind of inactivity burns?

The great cover-up

The staff room is beginning to look like a refugee centre. Most of our workstations are under shrouds made from plastic garbage bags, and a tent-city now occupies what used to be the English Dept. Occasionally, a camel-train passes by, bearing trade goods to History and beyond.

This is what happens when there are more staff than room. With the new arrivals facing the prospect of sitting two to a desk, it was finally decided that it was time for expansion. So tomorrow, the far wall is due for demolition and that will open a new space for us in what was once tutorial room 03-26.

And tent-city will protect most of our stuff from construction dust and toxic fallout while the contractors do their thing. Great excuse to stay home over the next couple of weeks! :D

The places you'll go in a Polo

Rode Amy's new Polo to the PUS where we heard the PM speak in his usual measured, careful, practical, matter-of-fact manner. His basic message was, as always, there will be storms ahead but we'll weather them as long as we work together regardless of who we are or where we hail from. It's kinda' sad he has to keep harping on this theme because it shows we, as a people, are still not quite there yet.

You can tell from the myriad questions he fielded that people were still drawing lines of division rather than envisioning synergies between us. Our young people are more interested in asking their questions (sometimes I'm not even sure they're their questions) and going back to their seats than listening to the responses for an opportunity to dialogue.

But we were hungry and couldn't engage in dialogue anyway. There was a great lunch deal at Grill-out, Sunset Way. 2 set lunches for the price of $23. There were five of us, Amy, B-lo, HP, Josh and me, an odd number, but they gave us all the special price anyway. I was very happy with my beef short ribs. Not overcooked, very juicy with the meat cleaving neatly off the bone. I especially enjoyed the slightly chewy texture with the pleasant beefy flavour going around my mouth. Some days, I am a total carnivore.

Dessert at The Daily Scoop. My fave flavour combo: Simply Chocolate and Honey Vanilla. How conventional. But the more exotic flavours have the consistency of sorbet. Hmph. I like my ice-cream the traditional way.

Was looking forward to riding the new Polo. My first impressions are that it is a safe, reliable vehicle. Its 1.4l engine makes it economical to run, and it has the VW quality stamped firmly on it. The chrome trim on the dashboard panels give it a slightly retro appearance. I love the display panel with its combination analog speedometer and RPM meter and digital time/temperature/fuel readouts in large fonts -- lots of useful info at a glance. Looks like a fun car to drive, but in terms of its personality, I have yet to identify it as an Amy car. Think they'll need time to grow into each other.

Don't fight the dog

I must be showing my age. My views are with the establishment over the Gaza flotilla incident, and even over the recent insanity in BKK. In both events it was a contest of civilians versus the military. Yes, sure, everyone roots for the underdog, those poor unarmed civvies collectively shaking their ineffectual fists at the tyrannical military machine. So brave, so bold, so noble to stand up for "what's right" against such odds. The same kind of courage as someone who pulls down their pants to moon a snarling doberman.

I was more upset that Central World in BKK got torched than about the protester casualties at the hands of the soldiery. To me, the protesters were spoiled children, destroying their own toys in a tantrum when they couldn't get their way. And now with everybody calling in to condemn the "disproportionate" response of the Israeli commandos' storming the humanitarian aid flotilla, I think everybody's overreacting.

If you have a problem with someone, the stupidest thing to do is to challenge his dog. The dog isn't there to be reasoned with, the dog is there to follow orders, to guard and woe betide anyone who crosses the line. It's pointless to cry and complain if you get bitten in the a** when you provoked the dog in the first place. So it is with the military. They have the guns and they will use them. End of story.

In BKK, the protesters were threatening the economy, the stability, the infrastructure and up to a point the residents of the centres they were occupying. What did they expect the military to do when it's the job of the military to protect the country against threats? In Gaza, there's a military blockade. Nobody goes in, nobody comes out without being shot at. What? They'll let through a convoy just because it says it's unarmed? Fat chance.

Yes, there are injustices to be righted. But could you guys go to the agency that can help, please? Here's a clue: the military isn't the right agency for this sort of thing. If you get your butt kicked, don't expect any sympathy from me.

Prince of Blendwell

For a movie based on an amalgamation of other popular movies, Prince of Persia: the Sands of Time (PoP) still turns out to be quite a thrill. The main characters are veritable carbon copies of Star Wars (Ep. 4-6); the plot sequencing is basically Back to the Future; and the set is from the Mummy franchise but with fewer ruins.

I've read bad reviews of PoP, so I was a little leery of going to watch it at first. Then I realised the reviewers I'd been reading were players of the PoP game and were finding it difficult to reconcile the linear movie storyline with their previous gaming experience. But because I have never played PoP before, I could enjoy the movie for what it did offer: energetic fight sequences with varied mix of weaponry, silly chases and races, selfless sacrifices, devious betrayals, and the inevitable countdown to prevent the end of the world.

PoP: a decent appetizer for this year's crop of summer blockbusters to come. Erm... they ARE coming, aren't they?

Library calling

Book delivery day. We've been assigned the northbound run, which is great for us. Familiar recipients, everyone knows the drill, which makes today's run relatively painless.

Well, there was this one family that made us wait outside while the kids scrambled around the house looking for the front door key. After a frantic few minutes, Dad -- clad only in his boxers -- emerged from his lair, eyes half-open. He shambled over to unlock the door, muttered some unintelligible pleasantries, then headed straight back from whence he came.

Apart from that little drama horror story, everything else went fine. No navigation problems, no admin snafus. Yay! We're getting the hang of it!

Stand behind the yellow line

Vesak Day public holiday. Bad day to be taking the MRT. Lots of fire trucks and rescue vehicles at the station. "Home Team" personnel milling about looking busy. Southbound train halted mid-track. Jumper. Sigh.

Pasta at Porta

Our mid-year paper is over and that officially commences summer vacation at last! Celebrated at Porta Porta with June and Jojo. Jojo is easy to order for: minestrone, salad and bruschetta. June fell in love with the oriecchiette ("little ears" pasta). I ordered a penne for myself.

In the end, the two girls picked at their food, leaving me to polish off the bruschetta, the "little ears" and my own penne and minestrone. But the food at Porta Porta is so good, I just kept eating until there was nothing left. Only then did I realise how full I was. Oh, wait... why does this story sound so familiar?

Summer is here!

It's been one heck of a slog, but summer is finally here. The time has come to get off the hamster wheel for a bit and slowly gnaw through the next batch of assignments. Maybe I'll take some time to mull over the ideas that came up in my meeting with the Mengs committee -- wonder if we're going to tread on anybody's toes or if people will thank us for what we are about to propose. As always, the content isn't going to matter much, but the packaging and the selling are going to be the hardest part.

But the main things is, after tomorrow, the days are going to stretch out before us again. We'll be busy, but free of the rigid structure of term time.

Just for good measure, we celebrated the arrival of summer with a crab dinner at Melben Seafood (AMK). It wasn't so much the food today, it was the company. Most of us have places to visit and will be flying off in a few days' time. Me, I won't be going anywhere. I aim to get my physical self healthy again, and maybe work on my tan some. Universal Studios? Well, maybe not till they get the BSG ride operating again. Hope we hear some good news about that soon.

Summer. Right. Now, where did I put my shades...?

Jojo and the flying tahini

June and I have been attending fitness classes with Jojo since she recommended her instructor to us. After today's class, we had dinner at the newly opened Salad Stop in Novena Square. Sure, the servings of salad are large and the menu choices are quite varied and flexible, but still, it's a bit overpriced for essentially a bowl of vegetables.

As we still had room for dessert, we went downstairs to Cedele for their cake selection. Jojo had her eye on what was left of a tahini cake. Tahini, she explained, is a sesame seed paste. Interesting.

Tahini, it turns out, must be quite slippery 'cos when the guy at the counter reached into the display cabinet to pull Jojo's cake out, the whole cake took a dive, crashing onto the bottom shelf. Jojo, who cannot bear to see food wasted, immediately offered to buy the suicide victim for half-price. The counter guy simply said, "no," and wouldn't budge after that.

Sensible policy, I thought. No F&B operator will knowingly sell spoiled food to a customer. Dumping food, from the business perspective, is a better option than a lawsuit.

The door at midnight

It's close to midnight. I'm Monster Hunting on the Wii. Behind me, there is a sudden noise. It's the unmistakable sound of my store room door opening. June's already in bed, so it's not her. I turn around to look. The door that conceals the store room door is still closed. Conclusion: someone... or some thing... has opened the store room from the INSIDE.

I'm freaked. The cats are equally freaked. They're tense and alert, staring intently at the door from the safety of the living room.

Wait a minute. Cats? There're Kaiser, Momo... where's Maui? Mauiiii!!! Cautiously, the two cats and I open the concealing door, and there's Maui, relieved to escape his confinement. He must have sneaked in at some point during the night when the doors were open and didn't make it out when we shut them later. Stupid cat.

Actually, maybe he's not so stupid. He can open doors! He's long known how to open my bathroom's bi-fold door, and now he's got the heavy store room door figured out. I told June that feeding him human powdered milk when he was a kitten would make him a clever boy. She didn't listen.

Japanese cuisine in quantity

In celebration of a number of reasons, most of which were that we were hungry, the Wongs descended upon Irodori Japanese Restaurant at the Riverview Hotel. The restaurant is quite small, but because we had made a reservation for so many of us, we got a private room to ourselves.

The set up is an a la carte buffet of every popular style of Japanese cuisine. At a very reasonable $33+++ per pax, we can order anything we want on the menu and keep the top-ups coming. While all the servings are small so it's possible to sample everything the restaurant has to offer without getting too stuffed too quickly, the strategic thing to do is focus on the stuff you know you like and use that as a base before becoming more adventurous.

No worries about the quality of the food. The sashimi is fresh and preferably the table should be packed full of raw fish eaters to share the bounty. But there's also a lot of cooked dishes as well so the others will not feel left out. Check out the buffet menu from the link above -- there's something for everyone. Well, dessert's extra.

Must commend the service also. Very attentive with the orders, not shy to make recommendations about the house specials and the green tea just keeps flowing. A little girl carrying a big pot makes sure of that.

Current promotion: UOB, OCBC and RBS credit card holders get 25% off the lunch menu, valid till the end of the year. The Wongs had a special coupon: every third person gets to eat for free. In our party of nine, we paid for six. Not a bad deal at all.

Campus choir does the Vic

Just returned from a choral recital performed by our campus choir. It was a sold out crowd at the Vic, though with the number of choir-istas in the group, that's hardly surprising.

The performance was to showcase the repertoire they're bringing with them to the Czech Republic this summer. As far as singing as a choir goes, the kids have been well-trained. The first half of the show passed pleasantly enough with songs representing various languages and tonal textures. Personally, I was wondering why we don't hear our own choir more often. They are a competent lot, and they would benefit from more performance exposure in front of an audience.

The reason I say this is because the second half of the performance -- a dramatized rendition of "Beauty and the Beast" -- though musically sound, there was a clear lack of confidence in the presentation as a whole. The production values (especially the costumes of the mechanicals in the Beast's castle) looked like it took some effort to manufacture, but because they were ultimately just worn as labels it was hard to believe that the characters were household items magically brought to life.

Part of the problem was in the soloists being difficult to hear. Playing in the Vic requires miking, or really strong voices, as it's a relatively large space to play in. Sans amplification, their vocals didn't carry far and for us in the circle seats, it was "eh, what?" most of the time.

But they are choir, after all, and that's where the bulk of their training goes to. As long as they sound good together, that's the measure of their effectiveness. That they attempted a production that they have little experience in shows their spirit and a sense of adventure. That's a good thing. All they need is an audience to play to more often so that they understand what works and what doesn't.

Here, we don't have show choir, so I wasn't expecting "Glee", but playing to an audience is one way to build confidence, and that's the missing ingredient in tonight's show. Hope they gain some before they hit the Czechs.

The hamster wheel

I wonder if the current frequency I am updating my posts is indicative that I have succumbed to the malady that my expanded group of esteemed colleagues are railing about: the lack of a work-life balance for us who have sold our souls to the industry.

At present, even as I update today, my assignment pile to be graded over the weekend looms forebodingly. And as soon as I return it to the kids next week, I'll be immediately inundated with a new, bigger pile to grade over the summer hols. Kids are already lining up for consultation slots on my free afternoons, now that the endless rehearsals for sectionals and Drama Night are over. Oh, also conducting weekly remedials plus a make up class in the coming week.

But then, so what else is new? The grading is a necessary thing that won't change until the format of the exams changes. All the extra classes and CCA stuff are some of the most fun I've had doing actual teaching because here I'm dealing with kids who really want to learn, who ask genuine questions, who are anxious to listen to what I advise, and I feel that I am meeting real needs by having real discussions with a totally captive and responsive audience. We teachers keep asking for smaller classes, well, here they are.

I am also fortunate enough to have a bunch of great colleagues (yes, I've mentioned this before, but it's worth mentioning again) who still make it a point to find time to socialize as much as support each other with our workload.

Thing is, our external colleagues are so stressed out because everything they do they take as proprietary: my work, my job, my responsibility, my ideas -- which ultimately results in my time, my life... omg. Among my colleagues, nothing is proprietary, we share everything. We're as close to Communism as you can get, without the nonsense politics. None begrudges another of their success. In fact, if we believe strongly enough in each other's causes, we do what we can to help make it a success. That's our campus.

No. The only reason I have been updating so infrequently is because I'm getting lazy. There, I said it.

Currency exchange

With the Euro taking a big plunge against the SGD recently, we decided to convert a fraction of our meagre savings as a sort of investment for the future. Not that we're likely to see a grand windfall, but at least we're hoping to get back a little better than bank interest rates which are pathetic at the moment.

Went with a DBS foreign currency chequing account. No interest earned, but we can cash out any time it's favourable to do so. If anything, we'll earn a bit from the exchange rate when things get better for the Europeans, or should we suddenly want to go and see Europe we'll have currency on hand that we bought at a good rate.

Note that to withdraw funds in SGD, current exchange rates apply; but to withdraw funds in Euro, the bank charges 1.5% commission, so the Euro has to pick up significantly before it's worth withdrawing anything. If it's going to be a waiting game, I can wait... but still...

here's to a return to good times for the Euro!

A slobbery birthday

Now that I have the weekends to myself again, I can spend then on frivolous things like attending Latte's birthday BBQ.

Latte seems thrilled at the prospect of birthday cake for dessert, but she's looks more keenly at our's, instead of her own. Doesn't she know chocolate isn't good for dogs?

Latte's owner helps out with the candle blowing. Dog drool isn't a recommended additive to birthday cake.

Unfortunately, Q-tip doesn't think highly of the canine consumable cake.

But Latte has no problem with daintiness, as Her Highness, Miss Q-tip, does. Latte just swallows her share down in large chunks. It's her birthday, after all.

Wow!Pow!Bow! 2010

Wow!Pow!Bow! 2010 came to a close (finally). Despite our initial fears of playing to only half a house, alumni, parents, friends and a sizable number of the current student body filled the seats, allaying our worries about covering costs.

Rowdy crowd, though. They came in prepared to laugh, and laugh they did even at moments when the drama going on onstage was tense. Guess it's their way of coping. Life is already tense enough as it is. Our three Wow!Pow!Bow! plays had to play to a tough audience. For many of the kids just standing there in front of a sea of faces was a first. That they were able to keep their cool and tell their stories regardless was truly commendable.

Typical of teenagers, the three plays tended to repeat the themes of death and cell phones. Unsurprisingly, the Audience Poll Award went to the play that resonated these two themes the most. The judges gave the Best Overall Production Award to the play with the most movable set pieces and explosive conclusion. SFX rulez! Cool, I can live with that.

But the play from Sectionals which we debuted for a paying audience showed what a trained and professionally directed cast and crew can do. Comedy is difficult, but if done well will win over the toughest crowd. So let's keep comedy on the cards for future Drama Nights, ok?

On the whole, working with all the kids on Wow!Pow!Bow! has been exhausting. But to see them all grow as performers in such a short time, to see how innovative they've been with their staging and set designs, how frugal they've been in obtaining their materials, how eager they've been to improve their performance day-by-day, how patient and cooperative they've been with each other and their competitors; everyone just focused on presenting a good show... that's what I mean by working with a cast and crew with an awesome attitude, having a sense of motivation and ownership over a project of their own choosing.

Though I said before that I don't desire to die in the theatre, I'm pretty sure I want to continue living in it. It's great to be able to teach kids stuff that's outside the curriculum. You can yell at them, threaten them with flying shoes of death, work them till odd hours of the night, and the next night they'll be there again asking for more abuse just so that they can improve on their previous performance. Now, that's a real love for learning! And I'm so happy to facilitate!

Curtains up, eyelids down

Latest news reports say that the lifestyle I've been living lately hasn't been too healthy:

Lack of sleep 'linked to early death'

followed by:

Memo to boss: 11-hour days are bad for the heart.

As much as I love the theatre, I'm not sure I love it all to death. After tonight's run, I'm taking a vacation.

How do you get to Carnegie Hall?

Camping out at Drama Night venue sure makes one lose track of the days. Rehearse, rehearse, rehearse. Looking forward to Full Dress Rehearsal tonight. Everything still looks a mess, especially the transitions between plays. But the plays themselves have been making the kids work like the clappers. I may only have three plays in the running but they're all showing that they're in it to win it. Quite proud of them already, given what they've been able to accomplish in only two weeks (realistically speaking) and given their lack of experience. Think it was a good idea to let them watch each other's rehearsals, 'cos they're motivated to show better than their competitors. That's been raising the stakes quite a bit. Now it's left to me to provide the packaging, and the polish that complements the show that we've got. Oh, the pressure.

Just another Sunday

Up bright and early for a 0800 session with Personal Trainer, John. No incident there as I made time to eat breakfast beforehand. June came home from her company trip and as we were walking out to celebrate, we very nearly got run over by a bus charging the lights. We shook our fists at the oblivious bus driver and sent off a complaint to his employer. Never felt so angry with service staff before, but then none had ever threatened the lives of my wife and I before either.

Lazy

What a great Saturday morning! It's such a luxury to sleep in for a change, and I fully took advantage of it. No rehearsals, no work backlog (or rather, none that I feel guilty neglecting anyway), just a nice, restful College Day ceremony to attend in the afternoon. Ah, to revel in my non-involvement!

Significant... not!

Last Sunday's dinner at by the riverside turned out to not to be as significant as we feared. Today, the results came back negative. We are relieved and happy.

Long nights

Working late again. Sectionals may be over but our attention now goes to Drama Night. Going to be continuing with evening rehearsals over the next week too. Actually been grateful for it since it keeps me busy all evening, and it's something useful to do until June gets back from her company trip to Penang. Fortunately for the animals, May's around to feed them and pet sit till I get home.

I'm really tired, though. Only one more week...!

"Sectionals" 2010

Our item for Drama "Sectionals" went well, with our kids delivering a high-energy performance with spot-on cues and clear and audible voice projection. Playing for an audience, they upped their game to a level I've not seen before and gave their all. Regardless of what result the judges deem, Mel and I are very satisfied with the kids' performance, and the kids believe they have a play to be proud of too. And that is all that matters.

But the bigger test is coming for them. It's fine to play to a more than half empty hall of well-behaved adults, but to attract and keep the attention of a couple of hundred of their peers in the campus lecture theatre, we're moving into a whole new level of performance. Wow!Pow!Bow! 2010 is just around the corner. We'll take a short break over the weekend, then we bring out the whips and chains again as NYeDC swings back into full production mode. Mustn't let them get complacent. Heh.

Kids in masks

Two days out from drama "Sectionals" and the kids are falling sick. We made the more sniffly ones wear surgical masks to prevent further infection. We had one good run -- the first we've seen that had energy, awareness and minimal flubbed lines. Good. At this time when control of the production is slowly leaving our hands, the kids are stepping up their game to take over. Encouraging.

Dinner by the river

Tonight's dinner might be a significant one, but just how significant we will be able to determine over the next few days.

A view of the river and beyond

NBS and Vince had us over to warm their new digs. It was quite a reunion of all the folks we once worked with but have since moved on to manage more responsible things.

The apartment is quite comfortable for the two of them. I'm envious of the view they have that stretches all the way south. The city skyline is just on the horizon and considering the distance as the crow flies, that's awesome.

Distances between people over time made dinner conversation a little more cautious, polite even. We basically caught up with each other and our current activities and concerns over a selection of dishes both home-cooked and purchased. As always, there was more than enough to go around.

Too bad we couldn't stay longer after dinner. We'd already had a full day out and had just arrived at their doorstep fresh from sweating it out at the fitness club. We hadn't even showered. The fact that nobody remarked how rank we smelled shows how polite the company has become. And the animals were texting me repeatedly, asking when dinner-time was.

The man in the iron suit

We like Tony Stark because he is a fundamentally flawed hero. No doubt his heart's in the right place (well, figuratively speaking, anyway), but why does he have to be so smug about doing the right thing? Such hubris he carries on his iron shoulders, you feel like slapping some sense into his thick armoured head. And here exactly is where the sequel of the year picks up in Iron Man 2.

Tony Stark/Iron Man opens on a grand high note, making a spectacular entrance into his own Expo to the welcome of a bevy of leggy dancing "Ironettes", and it goes downhill for him from there. The Senate and the military are after his technology, Hammer Industries ramps up its aggression in competition against Stark's, and a foe he doesn't even know of takes up a personal vendetta against Stark himself. All this while he's basking in the glory of his own successes as the bringer of peace to the world.

Why we like Tony Stark is because he fends off his attackers so deftly. His wit in the Senate hearing is a disguise for the fact that he does not win the argument as much as he embarrasses his opponents to the point that they lose credibility in the debate. We like his irreverence and his taste in all the good things in life -- wine, women and all things geeky. Somehow, we are swept up in the mystique of Stark that his excesses seem forgiveable.

Which is why Mr Stark needs to be brought back down to earth. Whiplash makes a great nemesis not because his power matches the power of the Iron Man suit, but because his arrival forces Stark to reflect on the injustice done to the person wearing the Whiplash suit. Thus Stark, the futurist, realises that he has to look into the past for the wisdom to answer many of his current problems. And through Nick Fury, he realises that Iron Man cannot stand alone as the protector of the whole world.

What impresses me about this sequel is that it doesn't go all out to raise the stakes with effects. Yes, there are improvements and upgrades, including the bulky War Machine armour, but nothing that distracts from character portrayals. What IM2 has more of is human characters to balance out the iron-clad superheroics. The movie is really all about the people, anyway, and not the suits -- a fact that seems to elude Justin Hammer.

As before, IM2 promises great thrills, witty humour, and the exhilaration of noisy, powered flight sequences accompanied by the beat of ordnance and collateral damage. Two words: woo hoo!

The end-of-credits sequence adds another piece to the the Avengers puzzle, so stay and keep watching if you want.

Blinkin' lights

If there is going to be a weak spot at Drama "Sectionals", it's going to come from the tech crew. Bunch of imports are too good at their jobs to rehearse with the rest of us and make us feel like it's such an imposition on their time when they do come down and grace us with their presence.

Maybe they don't have a sense of how crucial their skills are to the production. All they know is switch on light, switch off light at roughly when according to the script. If that's the level of their commitment then I'm not surprised that many instances of long, awkward blackouts; lights up catching backstage crew setting the next scene on stage; actors speaking in the dark; stupid, avoidable, unforgivable lapses in production are the result of tech crew keeping their rehearsals to a bare minimum.

Well, we still have a few runs left before showtime. We'll squeeze every last bit of effort from whatever scraps they are holding out to us, and I'm sure we'll be made to feel grateful for it. Thanks, guys.

Sugar rush

Nearly passed out again at the fitness club. Likely the result of two factors. First, we were working out the legs quite intensively with a step-board. My lower extremities probably hogged all available blood, leaving little for the brain. Starved of oxygen, brane go by by.

Second, insufficient calorific intake. My last meal was six hours before starting the session, so there wasn't much left in the tank to burn anyway. Must remember to eat, if I'm going to work at this rate. My trainer bought me a Coke Zero to replenish my blood sugar level. It tasted terrible... but I perked right back up! The effect was almost instantaneous. Fuelled on sugar alone (artificial at that) I completed my training for the day without further difficulty.

Right. I'm not advocating tanking up with sugary drinks all the time. It worked surprisingly well in a pinch and saved me from my own stupidity, but the sugar either all burns to nothing, or stays inside and becomes fat which we're trying to avoid. Nothing beats having proper meals which become material to replace worn muscles, sinew and tissues after a workout.

Uncle Baba and Auntie Bibik go to dinner

Jen’s "Tok Panjang"
We got an invite to Jen's Peranakan themed fund raiser. June went all out to get an appropriate kebaya for the occasion, while I made do with a borrowed batik shirt.

Jen created a "museum" out of her collection of Peranakan paraphernalia and even had spare garb for guests that did not dress according to theme.

It was quite a sociable evening. Apart from the Nyonya feast that awaited us, we were also entertained with a round of singing Peranakan songs, including a song that taught us how to address relatives by their proper titles, and we got a sampling of some traditional games as well -- some strange hand-pinching game and a nostalgic impromptu session of five-stones.

Amazing to see how traditional and modern fit so well together. For the sing-along, iPhone owners whipped out their devices and downloaded lyrics for the rest of us primitives to share.

And dinner... Jen outdid herself with her offering of so many homemade dishes, some you can see from the slideshow above.

Must say, Jen throws great parties!

Mel opens house

Today's episode of "Teachers Behaving Badly" didn't quite go off as anticipated. Amy had filial duties to perform at short notice, effectively eliminating our venue and the Wii that goes with it in one fell swoop. That meant no raucous, embarrassing, uncoordinated flailing of limbs and other appendages in front of friends and family, though we'd been looking forward to this occasion for a week since we planned it.

But Mel came to the rescue, opening up her home to us social refugees. She fed us homemade pasta and mashed potatoes, a tastier, heartier and more substantial meal than she feared. She may not have been able to provide a Wii -- given the number of fragile things within too easy reach of a careless nanchuk swing -- but the company was good as always. Just put us all together and we entertain ourselves with or without external aids.

Poor Amy. I bet she was looking forward to today more than any of us. We must do a make-up or remedial session for her real soon.

Also, poor Jojo. Her rabbit took a turn for the worse and today, after weeks of palliative care, she and Derek finally made the decision to let him go. For pet owners, that's always a tough choice to make.

Money's worth in sweat and pain

Found a free afternoon to run solo at the fitness club. It's almost like my second home already. Campus is still first. Why have I been spending so much time at a place of torture? One, I spent a lot on it already so I feel like I have to milk my money's worth in sweat and pain. Two, I'm scared. A few breathless nights weeks ago reminded me how much I enjoyed breathing. It's an activity I would like to be able to continue doing for a while more yet. If building up my cardio-vascular endurance is going to help (as per doctor's advice), then I'm all for it. Mmmm... breathing.

A new age

I'm quite convinced the new age of information is already upon us. Had a little research exercise for my class. Broke them up into little groups and assigned each group to look up one item from a list of concepts and philosophies related to environmental sustainability. Once in a while we've got to let them go and forage material for themselves.

I was all prepared to send them off to our traditional hunting grounds: the campus library and Computer Labs. Instead, out pop iPhones, Blackberries, Nokias and every imaginable sort of wi-fi enabled handheld device. Nobody needs to go anywhere. Information comes flowing in where they're seated.

No need to worry any more that there aren't enough terminals to share among kids these days. Welcome to the age of mobile computing... in the classroom!

Only time for tech run

On site rehearsal for Drama Club "Sectionals" went reasonably well, considering how late we arrived thanks to morning rush hour traffic and a brief stop over at the wrong location. Too many schools share similar names. Grr.

Having only two hours to rehearse was good for running tech cues. The tech guys surprised us with their selection of music because I've never heard any of it during our regular rehearsals. Once RodO got into the theatre space, he lost his usual hesitancy and dictated everything like he was on home territory, which probably it was. That worked really well for the efficiency of the rehearsal as we ran cue-to-cue rather than going for a full run. That means we only ran light and sound transitions while the actors just provided their bodies and a couple of lines for cues.

Our transport company was very professional, bringing a couple of extra hands for loading and unloading our stuff onto the truck. They even secured our more fragile bits of set to prevent damage enroute. But the service was quite expensive, though. It would have been so much cheaper to rent a self-drive pick-up, but I'm not confident of driving one of those, accustomed as I am to driving a compact.

Bumped into Wendy A at the fitness club in the evening. I was on the machines, she was bodypumping. Whoa. The place is becoming like a recreation centre for our staff.

Bath day for cats

Bath day for the three cats. Kaiser is developing some nasty bald patches in his coat. At first we thought he and his best buddy, Maui, had a serious altercation. But we've been observing them interact over several days now and though Maui has a tendency to play rough, he isn't showing any particular signs of violence; at least not of the kind that would result in this degree of damage.

Kaiser's condition has to be some kind of mange. So this morning we took the cats one-by-one into the shower for a good scrub-down with tea-tree oil shampoo. Kaiser was first and though he was quite freaked out at the water and suds he mostly maintained his composure. A good beginning.

Momo was next. She yowled and kept yowling all through her bath. If the neighbours didn't know we had a cat, there's no keeping it a secret from them now. Not only that, they'll think we're cat abusers going by the noise Momo was making. Real drama queen, that one.

As for Maui, bathing him was like bathing a wildly animated rose bush. He was constantly growling and randomly slashing at us with his sharpened talons. My "loose hands" technique of holding him didn't guarantee I would be scratch-proof but my damage has already faded away. June was not so lucky, getting some nasty gouges in her extremities. Ouch.

Finally, all three cats are clean. Have to keep monitoring Kaiser, though. If this doesn't work, we'll have to take him to Doc Kasey as the next step.

Getting real with fitness

Sneaking off to the fitness club with Jojo wasn't such a big secret rendezvous thing after all. Kids caught us at the parking lot so our exit from campus wasn't as discreet as it could have been. Didn't want to spend the time explaining that we were trying to do something to rectify the state of our deteriorating health. Told them we were 'busy'. Let them start rumours if they want.

Didn't have as much trouble with our low-impact stretch-and-tone class after all. Working out on the Wii already taught me the basic movements and gave me enough flexibility and balance to keep up. But the class provided a social environment in which you can't be lazy and cut corners on movements, and a responsive instructor to make minor adjustments on form which the Wii is still technologically incapable of as yet.

June wants me to help her with what I've learned so far, but in the comfort of our own living room. Time to dust off the Wii and see if that helps her get started. I'll provide the social environment and let the virtual instructor conduct the workout.

Thunderous

Came home to one of the worst thunderstorms I've ever experienced. Lightning flashed continuously, thunder came in unending rolls. The cats were nowhere to be found, Q-tip ran back and forth across the floor in a panic, and all the electricity in the air tripped the fusebox, leaving us all in the dark. The video (above) is nothing more than a short sample of the thunderous noise driving Q-tip nuts. Just imagine all that going on for about 30 minutes at least, and me with nothing to do but marvel at nature's fury.

In the midst of the storm, I had to abandon Q-tip. Had an appointment with my fitness club instructor and finally got a full workout. No drama this time. I survived all his machines of torture and got rewarded with a great stretching cool down. As I stretched, he applied pressure. Together, we managed to pop my spine in several places -- something I hadn't been able to do for some weeks now. That felt great! Reason enough to make a return trip next week. Spinal alignment... mmm!

Have faith, World Cup viewers

S'poreans worried that they will miss out on televised 'live' World Cup matches this year need fret no more. The Acting Minister of ICA is confident FIFA will be reasonable about their demands because we offer such an important market for viewership in this region. As this Minister himself has said so, I absolutely believe it. His name, Lui Tuc kYew, (which translates as "money for football") practically guarantees it already.

Now we are 6

Off-Duty Ed is 6 years old today! 6 years soldiering on with a platform that's fast becoming passe. Micro-blogging's the in-thing now. Nobody reads longish posts any more. And there's less and less time being spent off-duty too.

So to celebrate today's milestone I've put aside lesson prep, essay grading, lecture research, and worries about drama "Sectionals" and Drama Night in favour of vegging out in front of the TV. NCIS:LA and CSI: woo-hoo! Rest of the evening spent collapsed, asleep on the floor. A pre-nap before bedtime.

Why attending assembly talks is compulsory

It's great that there are vendors who give assembly talks on current issues like "cyber-wellness". It's important that the kids learn to protect themselves online, where problems like privacy invasion, identity theft, viral infections and personal harassment are all too easily encountered and can be a real pain-in-the-a** to say the least.

These are 21st century skills we are talking about, dealing with a medium our society is increasingly becoming dependent upon, so by all means provide the necessary instruction to our kids. But for heaven's sake, can we please engage a vendor who actually knows -- and uses -- the Internet as a daily tool for life and not some obnoxious Luddite who sits longer on his moral high horse than at his keyboard, going tsk tsk, and shaking his head at the world passing him by?

His talk and the videos he showed were excruciating to sit through. The first was about moral choices we make in choosing subject matter to blog on. Fine, you know: don't insult others, be sensitive to their feelings... otherwise they will commit suicide and you'll get in trouble with the Principal. O_o The second was about how playing online games turns gamers into violent, obsessive mental patients with bad American accents. Honestly, the acting in these videos would make Bolo Santosi look like an Oscar contender.

Actually, considering the religious source behind this material, I'm not surprised by the quality of the message. The amount of demonizing going on in both the criticism of the medium and in the portrayal of its effects on its consumers was laughably unbelievable.

Herein lies the problem: I agree you have an important topic to broach with the kids, but if you're going to grab their attention, you'll have to respect them as an intelligent audience. Talk to them about real problems of an everyday nature, not try to frighten them with exceptional case studies (trust me, they aren't scared in the least). Show them practical skills for self-defence, not make them swear off the computer forever (trust me, they won't). And don't be a clown when you deliver your material. Humour is good, but only if it is the vehicle for the message and not for the messenger. As for today's speaker, if the medium was the message, we were sadly not impressed.

In the spotlight

Had to stand-in for missing actors during today's rehearsal. I thought I knew the script quite well already but once in the spotlight I realized just how much I'm asking of the kids. Apart from line and stage direction memory, there's also timing and coordination with the other actors on stage. That's a lot of pressure and I can only say that I'm glad I was just a stand-in.

Truly, my time in the spotlight is over and it's the kids' turn now. My job now is to ensure that the lights shining on them are indeed spotlights they can sing and dance in, and not headlights to freeze in front of.

Ended rehearsal once again too late to join my fitness class though I had intended to finally make a start. Darn it! Made up for it with cheesecake from NYDC. :(

One month to curtain

The days of long nights begins as we're only a month away from curtain. Never felt so underprepared before. Usually by this time, there's at least a sense of what the show is going to sort of look like, but this year all I can see are fragments with edges still needing rounding-off if they're going to fit together.

Not about to panic just yet. Each day, each rehearsal, brings new and interesting developments to our little story. I think we have an awesome narrative, but to pull it off we're going to have to work doubly hard from now. A comedy is that much more demanding to do right.

Mel and I had dinner at Arbite in Gardens after rehearsal. Quite a cool little place with its whitewashed walls randomly studded with colourful Lego bricks. Quite homely, if you're into modern urban-style homeliness. Not too many tables so it's comfortable and not likely to be noisy. The living room area is a nice touch; gives me the feeling that we are welcome to take our time over our meal and not have to hurry off too soon.

The menu looks generally light and healthy. The salad came in a basin, greens fresh and crispy though the vinaigrette dressing was a little sweeter than I expected. The pork stew I ordered came in another basin and a side roll. It was the consistency of a vegetable soup with pork bits -- just what I was looking for. I didn't need to stuff myself. I wanted comfort food and what I got didn't disappoint.

Finished off with the last piece of carrot cake in the display rack. Me and I appreciated the generosity with which the raisins were packed in the cake. Went well with the tea and the shop talk that we had to get through. Yes, it was a business dinner, after all.

Drizzly tempest

Took kids to watch "The Tempest" by The Bridge Project. Mel wanted so badly for the kids to like their first experience watching Shakespeare performed 'live', but was disappointed that this version didn't quite capture their imaginations.

I will say the play had its moments -- lots of them. The comedy was spot-on with timing and characterization, the romance scenes were sweet, the evil plotting scenes were clearly sinister and I enjoyed them all. But the exposition scenes somehow didn't have the same level of energy in them. I know I nodded off from time to time because despite the fact that these scenes are meant to glue all the different elements of this difficult play together, the audience shouldn't be made to feel like they're watching the glue dry.

For me, I saw this production as a collection of brilliant vignettes that were related more or less sequentially, but missing a powerful thread that ties them all together coherently.

But knowing the state I'm in healthwise, I also knew my fatigue would kick in at some point and I was expecting to knock out occasionally. So I wasn't really looking for a coherent story as Mel was.

I was there to steal ideas for tech and staging, and I was not disappointed. It was a large stage divided in half such that upstage was completely flooded with maybe a half-inch of water, downstage was completely dry. Upstage served as the holding area for the actors who were not involved in the scene being played out downstage. They sat on a chair each, immobile, lights down, but because of their proximity to the play area they were ready to go when they were needed.

Downstage, the play area focused on a central circular sand pit. A fantastic device it was for representing the world, an external location, the spirit realm, the concepts of reality and imagination, and an external location observed from an internal location like images in a crystal ball in a fortune-teller's tent. So versatile!

The presence of 'live' music and hand-crafted on-the-spot sound effects reminded me of MU days. The music was haunting and really added to the organic nature of the magic that was supposed to weave through the whole play.

So yes, there were many magical elements that the play offered, lots of promise of thunder and wonder to be wielded by a skilled and powerful wizard inspiring shock and awe in the audience. But what came out in the end was somewhat more understated. The pace and skill perhaps, of a gardener tending the rhododendrons rather than Gandalf in mortal combat against the Balrog. What it could have been.

Doctor's advice

Did you know that MtE has a lift operated car parking system? It was quite a novelty to wait in a designated location while a parking attendant hails an elevator car for you to drive into. He selects a floor with a vacant lot, then up you go to find it. The thrill, of course, in in negotiating M2 into this narrow box. Traversing two speed bumps tells you that's far enough, the door can shut behind you now. M2 is quite a small vehicle and I'm feeling the claustrophobia already. Wonder how the Benzes do it?

I was at MtE for a review of my health condition. Dr TB recommended to wean me off the meds which is a good sign. Even better, he thinks exercise will do me good, so I can put my fitness club membership to use again. I still left with a fistful of pharmaceuticals (an over-the-counter prescription drug and a top-up for my inhaler) and a big hole in my pocket. -- about as big as when I take the pets to the vet anyway. Figure I should be worth as much. Yes, Q-tip?

Not epic

Harryhausen did a fantastic smack-bang job with his stop-motion version of "Clash of the Titans". Today's CGI version was a total washout in comparison to it's classic(al) counterpart. "Clash (2010)" went for a darker, angstier narrative -- which is usually promising -- but for a story of these purported proportions it didn't quite work.

Dark means that the screen literally went dark with lots of shadows and blues, greys and blacks. I don't know if this was the effect of the 3D glasses we were wearing but I'd readily trade in the illusion of depth perception for a richer palatte of colours.

There's little point going all dark and moody if the characters are people no one cares about. It could have been Perseus and the Argonauts, a team effort coordinating different strengths to take down a common foe; but it was more like Perseus and the practically-anonymous bunch of tough-looking guys that died easily. Before we could get to know them and even start to recognize them by face, they've already hit the dirt like just another red-shirted Star Trek security detail.

Problem is, the whole thing is almost entirely from Perseus' teenage 'why-me' whiny perspective. It's a fantasy of laying the smack-down on everyone who's ever pissed you off, at first resisting then finally accepting all the deus ex-machina devices that've been conveniently provided along the way. That's just too easy and does little to develop him as a character much.

This narrative simply went for the central plot and doggedly remained there. No back-stories for the supporting characters, very little build-up to the next epic encounter, the whole mission undertaken with the efficiency of an audit check and about as entertaining. There was very little humour (except a perfunctory dig at the useless robot owl of the original version), and as such very little joy in the telling of this tale. Not fun at all.

When you set out to recreate a movie of this scale, this grandeur, but condense it into a series of tightly cut scenes that keep such sharp focus on the main through-line all the time, I'm sorry but you cannot expect to call it "Clash of the Titans" again and get away with it. That name has already been taken. Instead, try "Mash of the Tightened", that might have worked better.