Worse, of course.
Here are a few things that make me cringe.
First, I wonder how a person can repeatedly stab himself/herself in the heart with a small knife (see 1:43). This is the most incredible phenomenon. I really want to see it happen. People take a stab in the abdomen and can hardly move after that. Multiple stabs in the heart... ROFL.
Second, can two bodies be buried in the same plot (2:37)? I know it is possible to have adjacent plots.
Third, how can there be two couples with only two people died (2:53)? Did I miss something?
Honestly, this youtube video makes me feel a little more forgiving towards the students whose papers I'm grading now. It seems like few people are capable of logical thought these days.
And the youtube fellow got it right. The horrendous content "will make (me) cry." What has this world come to?
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
How to lose an audience.
Superbly directed Thai commercial all planned to coax a bucket of tears from your eyes.
But unfortunately, it is meant for domestic consumption and no one knows which organisation it is advertising for.
Do the Thais think the farangs (foreigners) in Thailand don't watch TV?
But unfortunately, it is meant for domestic consumption and no one knows which organisation it is advertising for.
Do the Thais think the farangs (foreigners) in Thailand don't watch TV?
One gets it right!
Got this youtube video in my email this morning.
Honestly, this is what I wish I could do to parents out there when I first began teaching.
I stand by my belief that some people ought to be neutered and never be allowed to have children. After all, we should not let stupidity propagate.
Oh, but then we begin to welcome foreign talents [sic].
Honestly, this is what I wish I could do to parents out there when I first began teaching.
I stand by my belief that some people ought to be neutered and never be allowed to have children. After all, we should not let stupidity propagate.
Oh, but then we begin to welcome foreign talents [sic].
Friday, September 25, 2009
Sooner or later... BOOMZ
Miss Singapore/World 2009 needs no one to introduce her. I am going to unleash her to my readers and let her tell you about herself on Youtube.
Notwithstanding her zip-bra preens and how her red bigini goes boomz when she feels the need to be naughty, Miss Low was a bad hat.
According to the local tabloids, Miss Low was found guilty of credit card fraud in May; she was convicted of five charges of misappropriation, cheating using illegally obtained credit cards, and impersonating their users' identifies, and sentenced to 24 months of supervised probation. It went on to say that "it is unclear if Ms Low, crowned Miss Singapore World on July 31, will be able to leave Singapore to take part in the Miss World pageant to be held in Johannesburg in December, for which she will need court permission."
I think the zip-bras in Johannesburg will miss her if she isn't there. And Simba too. And how would one get light in the safari without Miss Low going BOOMZ?
Notwithstanding her zip-bra preens and how her red bigini goes boomz when she feels the need to be naughty, Miss Low was a bad hat.
According to the local tabloids, Miss Low was found guilty of credit card fraud in May; she was convicted of five charges of misappropriation, cheating using illegally obtained credit cards, and impersonating their users' identifies, and sentenced to 24 months of supervised probation. It went on to say that "it is unclear if Ms Low, crowned Miss Singapore World on July 31, will be able to leave Singapore to take part in the Miss World pageant to be held in Johannesburg in December, for which she will need court permission."
I think the zip-bras in Johannesburg will miss her if she isn't there. And Simba too. And how would one get light in the safari without Miss Low going BOOMZ?
Let me count the ways...
The orthopedic registrar apparently does not think that the bone chip at the C7 is giving me the giddiness and the pains. I was sent for another two blasts of x-rays for my spine and doc has reviewed the slides.
He has come up with a new theory: a prolapsed disc in the neck or a muscle sprain. The better case scenario is the latter as the neck muscle sprain will go away in 6 to 8 weeks and then I should be up and fully functioning again. But if it is the prolapsed disc, I'll have a much longer road to recovery ahead. That's assuming one recovers from a prolapsed disc.
I'm now waiting for an MRI and I'd be damned! The MRI appointments at the hospital goes into the night. I'm scheduled for an MRI at 7.30 pm in a fortnight. The MRI costs a lot and to recover the cost of investment, how they sweat their equipment! Reminds me of the budget airlines.
Physiotherapy is coming up in three weeks and I'm supposed to go for pain relief and hydrotherapy. What do they do at hydrotherapy? Drink lots of water? Swimming? What? Sigh...
One accident and so many things after that...
He has come up with a new theory: a prolapsed disc in the neck or a muscle sprain. The better case scenario is the latter as the neck muscle sprain will go away in 6 to 8 weeks and then I should be up and fully functioning again. But if it is the prolapsed disc, I'll have a much longer road to recovery ahead. That's assuming one recovers from a prolapsed disc.
I'm now waiting for an MRI and I'd be damned! The MRI appointments at the hospital goes into the night. I'm scheduled for an MRI at 7.30 pm in a fortnight. The MRI costs a lot and to recover the cost of investment, how they sweat their equipment! Reminds me of the budget airlines.
Physiotherapy is coming up in three weeks and I'm supposed to go for pain relief and hydrotherapy. What do they do at hydrotherapy? Drink lots of water? Swimming? What? Sigh...
One accident and so many things after that...
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Swollen Eye
I think something is wrong. My left lower eye lid/bag is swollen. Looks like I'm hiding a profiterole there...
I'm going to see a doctor tomorrow. I hope it's nothing serious.
I'm going to see a doctor tomorrow. I hope it's nothing serious.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Killing Me Softly...
Spent about two hours in the Changi General Hospital's Accident and Emergency Department's Observation Room when I went over for follow-up treatment last Friday. Immediately on entering the room, I was plonked on an empty bed. There was a patient on my left (Bed 7) and an empty bed on my right (Bed 5). No prizes for correctly guessing for my bed number.
Beds 1, 2 and 3 were empty while on Bed 4 lay this Malay guy who was conscious but hooked to various monitors. He's perhaps in his 30s or 40s and if anything, I'd suspect withdrawal symptoms rather than any real medical emergency. But what would I know.
Bed 7 on my left lay a sleeping guy, possibly a national serviceman, wrapped up in his blanket. I was not sure if he's malingering but I was beyond caring now. I had problems of my own to worry about. Bed 8 seemed to be occupied but the patient was blocked by the mass on 7. Bed 9 was empty. Bed 10 lay this Chinese man who looks like he's from China but I might be wrong. Beds 11 and 12 were empty.
I was waiting for my turn to get my CT Scan done. Right after I was made to lie in the bed, my blood pressure was taken and the nurses manning the OR counter began talking about the age of their new patient and his condition. Yak yak yak...
The nurses woke Patient 7 not long after I was settled in and asked if he could manage to go home by himself. I guessed that was the beginning of the long weekend and the hell he couldn't! So, off he went. I saw the gaunt patient on Bed 8. Bed 10 went up for his scan and I waited my turn, when the machine became available.
Before long, Bed 10 seemed to come back down while I fidgeted, went to the loo, was made to sit on a wheelchair, wait in the wheelchair, wheeled up to Radiology, and got my scan done.
Act 1 was complete when the CT machine fired the last x-rays through my skull and possibly semi-cooking my brains. I was wheeled back to the OR and made to get back on my bed.
* * *
"You must drink water. See, ask you to drink water, you don't want to drink? Today you're back in here again." So goes the son to his father, the patient on Bed 8.
"Yesteday, we came here and you were vomiting. They wanted to put you on the drip and you don't want.
"What can we do now? No point telling me that they use such a big (gauged needle) one on your now, right? Yesterday, if you take, you won't need such a big one.
"You need to drink water. How can you not drink water? Yesterday, when the doctors let you go home, you were told to drink lots of water. But you say the water makes you vomit. Now doctor X cannot do anything for you. God can't do anything for you either.
"Don't worry about anything at home. Everything will be fine. The home will still be there when you go home. You should just stay in here and start drinking water.
"You cannot go home now. See? Even God doesn't want to take you yet. So, how?..."
Apart from some occasional low groans and some raspy, unintelligible sounds, the son persisted on his soliloquy. There was resignation, not anger.
"See? I already take leave today. I got no choice since I have to bring you here. Tomorrow? Tomorrow is Saturday. I don't have to work. And today I take leave to bring you here..."
The battle of making dad drink water was amazing. While I tried to resist turning over to take a look, when sonny left, I sneaked a peek. Old man seemed to be burning. His face is flush reddish purple and his lips were dry and chapped. His eyes were listless as he stared out into the clinically white lighted room, his mouth gaping like a beached goldfish gasping for air.
* * *
"Oh, Mr So-so. I'm your doctor. I've just seen your radiology report. I think you have got a mini-stroke. You know, a TIA..."
Man, I know a TIA. It's short for transient ischaemic attack. I just watched it for the third time on Royal Pains the night before. Oh shit, what if I had a TIA from the car accident...
The patient on Bed 10 must be pretty taken aback. Stroke? How is that possible? He looked perfectly normal. Normal weight range, normal everything.
"Mr So-so, TIA is like a stroke. You see your films? There is this dark region. The blood flow to the area is affected."
I could almost see myself spouting these lines. Man, when I go to the US for studies, I'm going to audition for a role in some medical drama. I could play the role of a plastic surgeon who gets a patient who wants a pair of 38H and midway into the headlights enhancement operation, she had a TIA, wakes up after emergency rescue and decides that, for the sake of her fragile life, she wants a pair of 42L instead. The patient's name? Miss Giant Parts Greenberg. ;)
"We don't know if there is permanent damage. No. You cannot go home. You must stay in the hospital and we need to treat you. We will find out the extent of the blockage and see if you have any permanent damage here.
Such words were not exactly the most comforting to me, since I'm also waiting for the CT scan results.
Doctor turned to Patient 10's wife and asked, "Do you know if he complained of any weaknesses on one side of his body...?"
A poignant Miss Saigon moment descends. I feel walls in my heart closing in, I can't breathe, I can't win...
* * *
I had quite enough by then. Between the time I was sent for the scan and my return, which was less than 15 minutes, the OR room dynamics had changed. There was now a Patient 5 on my right now and he was offered lunch. That junior category senior even asked to see the lunch menu. He really thinks that when the ambulance crew euphemistically call hospitals hotels, they are thus hotels? Crazy.
Patient 1 was an old man/woman - honestly, when you are old and shrivelled up, no one can tell your sex any more - and s/he was sleeping. Or maybe unconscious. S/he is awaiting admission.
Bed 2 was occupied by a huge Indian lady who was to be admitted. When the enrolled nurses asked her to sit up, they asked her, "Can you sit up?" and then asked if the bed, which was supposed to wheel her to her ward, could support her weight. Somehow, after watching Nurse Jackie, I feel strangely comforted.
On Bed 3 was a Malay old man who wanted to be given his painkillers, forget about any treatment and scoot home soonest possible. He looked like he wished to be home, never mind should anything happen to him. I doubt he was of dischargable patient calibre but to subject a senior category senior citizen to more treatment seemed brutal. And what do I know? I'm just an aspiring medical drama quack.
Patient 4 was more sober by then. Maybe they injected a little something into him? I was not sure. By then, I was already pretty much killed inside by the flurry of bad news and the negative vibes.
"Can I leave this place?" I asked the nurses. "I wanna get lunch."
"Do you have relatives with you?"
"No, I came alone. Oh, never mind. How long will this take?"
"About 1 hour."
"1 hour? I can wait. It's just another 15 minutes."
In an environment where it's bad news galore - the sign at the OR entrance
read, "Due to high occupancy, you will only be allocated your bed in the wards when it becomes available," or something to that effect - find an excuse and get out before your heart gives out when your news come.
Still, high occupancy rates in "Cannot Go Home" Hospital? Amazing. Singaporeans must be damned desperate to go there.
As I waited, there was a fresh commotion in the nurses area about how they intend to complain about a staff nurse or doctor who passed disparaging remarks about the hospital. Apparently, the fellow said something like, "No wonder people say Changi is a bad hospital. If I had a family member who was ill and needed to go to the hospital, I wouldn't even send them (sic!)here." And to make matters worse, this utterance was made in front of the public. Apparently, the OR nightingales are going to launch a joint attack on the hawk by claiming that he was out of line, unprofessional and whatever.
Ah, at least some bitching near my comfort levels. I don't know what transpired but the nightingales seemed perturbed enough to say words to the effect that Changi is a great hospital and if any of their loved ones fall sick, they would have no qualms to send them here because of the high levels of care. Oddly, I feel a little more confident, even if Changi is not even on my shortlist for anything.
* * *
1.15 pm. The wait was getting unbearable. The OR was not exactly changing much in terms of patient numbers but there was clearly a need to get rid of bed hoggers. My case came up for review at the counter. A re-triage of sorts.
"This patient looks all right."
"Yah, 29 years old..." - goddammit, there is ABSOLUTELY no one who's 29 in the OR! I'm the youngest and I'm way past 30! - "and the signs are stable. Blood pressure ok."
"Ok, let me call Radiology."
29 years old? Ha! I was 29 once. But how could they work out my age to be 29 when that was half a decade ago?
"Hello, Radiology? A&E OR ah. Can I discharge this patient? We need the beds."
The next thing, I was told I could leave the observation room.
At that moment, I knew there was nothing very serious. But honestly, the lack of privacy in the OR and the deluge of bad news bombarding the patients in the room can rapidly cause anyone to slip into a transient depression. The what-ifs can really be heart stopping and mind blowing.
I quickly bundled out of the OR and went back to the waiting area, where the doctor walked out of his consultation room and asked for another 2 hours to clear my case as the senior enough radiologist wasn't available to countersign on my CT report and a verbal ok from Radiology and from only one radiologist wasn't good enough to get me discharged as an emergency case.
Still, being able to get out of the A&E for a quick lunch and some shopping to remove the negative thoughts and vibes that plague the free mind - despite the giddiness from the mild concussion - can be a little uplifting.
Beds 1, 2 and 3 were empty while on Bed 4 lay this Malay guy who was conscious but hooked to various monitors. He's perhaps in his 30s or 40s and if anything, I'd suspect withdrawal symptoms rather than any real medical emergency. But what would I know.
Bed 7 on my left lay a sleeping guy, possibly a national serviceman, wrapped up in his blanket. I was not sure if he's malingering but I was beyond caring now. I had problems of my own to worry about. Bed 8 seemed to be occupied but the patient was blocked by the mass on 7. Bed 9 was empty. Bed 10 lay this Chinese man who looks like he's from China but I might be wrong. Beds 11 and 12 were empty.
I was waiting for my turn to get my CT Scan done. Right after I was made to lie in the bed, my blood pressure was taken and the nurses manning the OR counter began talking about the age of their new patient and his condition. Yak yak yak...
The nurses woke Patient 7 not long after I was settled in and asked if he could manage to go home by himself. I guessed that was the beginning of the long weekend and the hell he couldn't! So, off he went. I saw the gaunt patient on Bed 8. Bed 10 went up for his scan and I waited my turn, when the machine became available.
Before long, Bed 10 seemed to come back down while I fidgeted, went to the loo, was made to sit on a wheelchair, wait in the wheelchair, wheeled up to Radiology, and got my scan done.
Act 1 was complete when the CT machine fired the last x-rays through my skull and possibly semi-cooking my brains. I was wheeled back to the OR and made to get back on my bed.
* * *
"You must drink water. See, ask you to drink water, you don't want to drink? Today you're back in here again." So goes the son to his father, the patient on Bed 8.
"Yesteday, we came here and you were vomiting. They wanted to put you on the drip and you don't want.
"What can we do now? No point telling me that they use such a big (gauged needle) one on your now, right? Yesterday, if you take, you won't need such a big one.
"You need to drink water. How can you not drink water? Yesterday, when the doctors let you go home, you were told to drink lots of water. But you say the water makes you vomit. Now doctor X cannot do anything for you. God can't do anything for you either.
"Don't worry about anything at home. Everything will be fine. The home will still be there when you go home. You should just stay in here and start drinking water.
"You cannot go home now. See? Even God doesn't want to take you yet. So, how?..."
Apart from some occasional low groans and some raspy, unintelligible sounds, the son persisted on his soliloquy. There was resignation, not anger.
"See? I already take leave today. I got no choice since I have to bring you here. Tomorrow? Tomorrow is Saturday. I don't have to work. And today I take leave to bring you here..."
The battle of making dad drink water was amazing. While I tried to resist turning over to take a look, when sonny left, I sneaked a peek. Old man seemed to be burning. His face is flush reddish purple and his lips were dry and chapped. His eyes were listless as he stared out into the clinically white lighted room, his mouth gaping like a beached goldfish gasping for air.
* * *
"Oh, Mr So-so. I'm your doctor. I've just seen your radiology report. I think you have got a mini-stroke. You know, a TIA..."
Man, I know a TIA. It's short for transient ischaemic attack. I just watched it for the third time on Royal Pains the night before. Oh shit, what if I had a TIA from the car accident...
The patient on Bed 10 must be pretty taken aback. Stroke? How is that possible? He looked perfectly normal. Normal weight range, normal everything.
"Mr So-so, TIA is like a stroke. You see your films? There is this dark region. The blood flow to the area is affected."
I could almost see myself spouting these lines. Man, when I go to the US for studies, I'm going to audition for a role in some medical drama. I could play the role of a plastic surgeon who gets a patient who wants a pair of 38H and midway into the headlights enhancement operation, she had a TIA, wakes up after emergency rescue and decides that, for the sake of her fragile life, she wants a pair of 42L instead. The patient's name? Miss Giant Parts Greenberg. ;)
"We don't know if there is permanent damage. No. You cannot go home. You must stay in the hospital and we need to treat you. We will find out the extent of the blockage and see if you have any permanent damage here.
Such words were not exactly the most comforting to me, since I'm also waiting for the CT scan results.
Doctor turned to Patient 10's wife and asked, "Do you know if he complained of any weaknesses on one side of his body...?"
A poignant Miss Saigon moment descends. I feel walls in my heart closing in, I can't breathe, I can't win...
* * *
I had quite enough by then. Between the time I was sent for the scan and my return, which was less than 15 minutes, the OR room dynamics had changed. There was now a Patient 5 on my right now and he was offered lunch. That junior category senior even asked to see the lunch menu. He really thinks that when the ambulance crew euphemistically call hospitals hotels, they are thus hotels? Crazy.
Patient 1 was an old man/woman - honestly, when you are old and shrivelled up, no one can tell your sex any more - and s/he was sleeping. Or maybe unconscious. S/he is awaiting admission.
Bed 2 was occupied by a huge Indian lady who was to be admitted. When the enrolled nurses asked her to sit up, they asked her, "Can you sit up?" and then asked if the bed, which was supposed to wheel her to her ward, could support her weight. Somehow, after watching Nurse Jackie, I feel strangely comforted.
On Bed 3 was a Malay old man who wanted to be given his painkillers, forget about any treatment and scoot home soonest possible. He looked like he wished to be home, never mind should anything happen to him. I doubt he was of dischargable patient calibre but to subject a senior category senior citizen to more treatment seemed brutal. And what do I know? I'm just an aspiring medical drama quack.
Patient 4 was more sober by then. Maybe they injected a little something into him? I was not sure. By then, I was already pretty much killed inside by the flurry of bad news and the negative vibes.
"Can I leave this place?" I asked the nurses. "I wanna get lunch."
"Do you have relatives with you?"
"No, I came alone. Oh, never mind. How long will this take?"
"About 1 hour."
"1 hour? I can wait. It's just another 15 minutes."
In an environment where it's bad news galore - the sign at the OR entrance
read, "Due to high occupancy, you will only be allocated your bed in the wards when it becomes available," or something to that effect - find an excuse and get out before your heart gives out when your news come.
Still, high occupancy rates in "Cannot Go Home" Hospital? Amazing. Singaporeans must be damned desperate to go there.
As I waited, there was a fresh commotion in the nurses area about how they intend to complain about a staff nurse or doctor who passed disparaging remarks about the hospital. Apparently, the fellow said something like, "No wonder people say Changi is a bad hospital. If I had a family member who was ill and needed to go to the hospital, I wouldn't even send them (sic!)here." And to make matters worse, this utterance was made in front of the public. Apparently, the OR nightingales are going to launch a joint attack on the hawk by claiming that he was out of line, unprofessional and whatever.
Ah, at least some bitching near my comfort levels. I don't know what transpired but the nightingales seemed perturbed enough to say words to the effect that Changi is a great hospital and if any of their loved ones fall sick, they would have no qualms to send them here because of the high levels of care. Oddly, I feel a little more confident, even if Changi is not even on my shortlist for anything.
* * *
1.15 pm. The wait was getting unbearable. The OR was not exactly changing much in terms of patient numbers but there was clearly a need to get rid of bed hoggers. My case came up for review at the counter. A re-triage of sorts.
"This patient looks all right."
"Yah, 29 years old..." - goddammit, there is ABSOLUTELY no one who's 29 in the OR! I'm the youngest and I'm way past 30! - "and the signs are stable. Blood pressure ok."
"Ok, let me call Radiology."
29 years old? Ha! I was 29 once. But how could they work out my age to be 29 when that was half a decade ago?
"Hello, Radiology? A&E OR ah. Can I discharge this patient? We need the beds."
The next thing, I was told I could leave the observation room.
At that moment, I knew there was nothing very serious. But honestly, the lack of privacy in the OR and the deluge of bad news bombarding the patients in the room can rapidly cause anyone to slip into a transient depression. The what-ifs can really be heart stopping and mind blowing.
I quickly bundled out of the OR and went back to the waiting area, where the doctor walked out of his consultation room and asked for another 2 hours to clear my case as the senior enough radiologist wasn't available to countersign on my CT report and a verbal ok from Radiology and from only one radiologist wasn't good enough to get me discharged as an emergency case.
Still, being able to get out of the A&E for a quick lunch and some shopping to remove the negative thoughts and vibes that plague the free mind - despite the giddiness from the mild concussion - can be a little uplifting.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
The Concussion
Amazing how a bump in the car rear can cause such a big problem. I'm still dizzy and somewhat wobbly. I still have the attention span of a blue housefly. I can't concentrate for too long on anything.
Grading has become a huge chore now. Whereas in the past I could grade 6 papers in one go, grading 3 sides is already pretty remarkable.
The doctor said it is a mild concussion and it should clear. I hope so. This foggy feeling is not exactly my cup of tea.
Grading has become a huge chore now. Whereas in the past I could grade 6 papers in one go, grading 3 sides is already pretty remarkable.
The doctor said it is a mild concussion and it should clear. I hope so. This foggy feeling is not exactly my cup of tea.
Important Dates for a TV Addict
21 September, 25 September and 27 September!
These mark the return of House, Ghost Whisperer and Desperate Housewives respectively.
List of shows this TV addict is religiously following currently:
1. Desperate Housewives
2. Ghost Whisperer
3. House
4. Leverage
5. Royal Pains
6. Nurse Jackie
7. The Mentalist
8. Surviving Suburbia
9. The Legend of the Seeker (Not started watching yet)
10. The Cleaner (Not started watching yet)
11. Fringe (Not started watching yet)
12. Testees (Still trying to get the episodes)
13. Flashing Forward (or is it Flash Forward... the episodes are not out yet)
14. Doc Martin (when I manage to find time)
Other series that I used to follow:
1. The Beast (it got killed in the first season halfway)
2. Dexter (I stopped after it got progressively difficult to clear my own moral standards - I was cheering a serial killer, dammit!)
3. Grey's Anatomy (too much medical drama - something has to go!)
4. ER (I stopped when Channel 5 stopped showing it)
5. Dirt (It got too dirty to watch and the storyline got somewhat stale)
6. Harper's Island (I wonder if there would be Season 2)
7. 11th Hour (This apparently is a one season wonder. Watching halfway)
8. X-files (for a short while)
9. CSI (It got too predictable after an episode, so I stopped watching.)
10. Law and Order (It was too late and I was still a student then)
There must be a whole lot of other stuff out there that I watch but I may not remember the names any more.
What would I do without my idiot box...
These mark the return of House, Ghost Whisperer and Desperate Housewives respectively.
List of shows this TV addict is religiously following currently:
1. Desperate Housewives
2. Ghost Whisperer
3. House
4. Leverage
5. Royal Pains
6. Nurse Jackie
7. The Mentalist
8. Surviving Suburbia
9. The Legend of the Seeker (Not started watching yet)
10. The Cleaner (Not started watching yet)
11. Fringe (Not started watching yet)
12. Testees (Still trying to get the episodes)
13. Flashing Forward (or is it Flash Forward... the episodes are not out yet)
14. Doc Martin (when I manage to find time)
Other series that I used to follow:
1. The Beast (it got killed in the first season halfway)
2. Dexter (I stopped after it got progressively difficult to clear my own moral standards - I was cheering a serial killer, dammit!)
3. Grey's Anatomy (too much medical drama - something has to go!)
4. ER (I stopped when Channel 5 stopped showing it)
5. Dirt (It got too dirty to watch and the storyline got somewhat stale)
6. Harper's Island (I wonder if there would be Season 2)
7. 11th Hour (This apparently is a one season wonder. Watching halfway)
8. X-files (for a short while)
9. CSI (It got too predictable after an episode, so I stopped watching.)
10. Law and Order (It was too late and I was still a student then)
There must be a whole lot of other stuff out there that I watch but I may not remember the names any more.
What would I do without my idiot box...
Friday, September 11, 2009
Too often, we forget
I spent the bulk of my day in Changi General Hospital waiting in the ER to have my leftover symptoms from Tueday's car accident checked out by the doctor. In all, I spent 2 hours at my GP,4 hours in the hospital and the whole day in some form of misery.
Had a CT scan done. Nothing remarkable was observed but the giddiness remained persistent. Doctor thought there might be a very mild concussion. I think so too.
There was nothing much they could do, except assure me that given time, the symptoms might disappear. I'm not so terribly patient. I want the woozy feeling to go away. I hate not being able to concentrate on my work.
4 hours later, I completed my wait in the ER and took a cab home.
Till the day when my head clears up more.
Had a CT scan done. Nothing remarkable was observed but the giddiness remained persistent. Doctor thought there might be a very mild concussion. I think so too.
There was nothing much they could do, except assure me that given time, the symptoms might disappear. I'm not so terribly patient. I want the woozy feeling to go away. I hate not being able to concentrate on my work.
4 hours later, I completed my wait in the ER and took a cab home.
Till the day when my head clears up more.
Wednesday, September 09, 2009
So Awful!
After banning So Expensive food court, a few days later, we decided to try out the Singapore Food eating outlets at the end of Downtown East, near the Costa Sands Resort.
Between the two shops, we chose to eat at the outlet closer to So Expensive. It was definitely an AWE-some experience. (Actually, morphologically awful and awesome both come from awe. In other words, awful and awesome ought to carry the similar meaning, i.e. goodness of some sort. For some reason, awful and awesome drifted apart and one became the bad twin (like the Harley-riding, Metro-taking, kid-terro... Oops, I went into too much details now!) and the other the good.)
So, we had coffee and lemon tea, fried kway teow (flat rice noodles) and fried rice. When the drinks came, the coffee was the worst I have ever had. Even good ol' America's worst coffee wins this particular cup by twenty thousand leagues (under the sea or otherwise!). Even Tibet's worst coffee (usually found at hotels' breakfast buffets) wins by the widest possible margin. Or for that matter, I'm not sure if hot water run through a coffee sock deviod of ground coffee beans can be considered coffee.
When I complained that the coffee was awful, the server said, oh, that's our coffee. Too weak? We can give you a little more. She grabbed my cup and replaced some of the contents with more sock water. It is now neither sweet enough nor rich enough. I'm already turning in my stomach.
The lemon tea was awful. I could make better lemon tea from sweaty, rancid T-shirts.
The fried kway teow was nothing like what a Singaporean would eat. It was... all wrong. The sauce was wrong, the ingredients were wrong, the cooking method was wrong. The correct way of cooking does not coat the noodles with a thick layer of grime, the sauce is slightly sweet, slightly spicy, and there is a good "smoky" feel from the hot wok. This version is yucky. You can't avoid the hard work of frying a good plate of noodles by using Chinese bean paste. I'm not born yesterday, you know! There weren't even cockles, a char kway teow essential ingredient, to go with the noodles. For $4, it was entirely unacceptable.
The fried rice was barely passable. But at $4, it is borderline rip-off.
In all, we were slapped with a bill of $10.90. That is a completely reprehensible rip off. I left my coffee undrunk, my noodles uneaten.
And before I left, I congratulated the wait staff. She was surprised until I immediately told it was for serving the worst coffee in the world.
I hope they go out of business soon.
Between the two shops, we chose to eat at the outlet closer to So Expensive. It was definitely an AWE-some experience. (Actually, morphologically awful and awesome both come from awe. In other words, awful and awesome ought to carry the similar meaning, i.e. goodness of some sort. For some reason, awful and awesome drifted apart and one became the bad twin (like the Harley-riding, Metro-taking, kid-terro... Oops, I went into too much details now!) and the other the good.)
So, we had coffee and lemon tea, fried kway teow (flat rice noodles) and fried rice. When the drinks came, the coffee was the worst I have ever had. Even good ol' America's worst coffee wins this particular cup by twenty thousand leagues (under the sea or otherwise!). Even Tibet's worst coffee (usually found at hotels' breakfast buffets) wins by the widest possible margin. Or for that matter, I'm not sure if hot water run through a coffee sock deviod of ground coffee beans can be considered coffee.
When I complained that the coffee was awful, the server said, oh, that's our coffee. Too weak? We can give you a little more. She grabbed my cup and replaced some of the contents with more sock water. It is now neither sweet enough nor rich enough. I'm already turning in my stomach.
The lemon tea was awful. I could make better lemon tea from sweaty, rancid T-shirts.
The fried kway teow was nothing like what a Singaporean would eat. It was... all wrong. The sauce was wrong, the ingredients were wrong, the cooking method was wrong. The correct way of cooking does not coat the noodles with a thick layer of grime, the sauce is slightly sweet, slightly spicy, and there is a good "smoky" feel from the hot wok. This version is yucky. You can't avoid the hard work of frying a good plate of noodles by using Chinese bean paste. I'm not born yesterday, you know! There weren't even cockles, a char kway teow essential ingredient, to go with the noodles. For $4, it was entirely unacceptable.
The fried rice was barely passable. But at $4, it is borderline rip-off.
In all, we were slapped with a bill of $10.90. That is a completely reprehensible rip off. I left my coffee undrunk, my noodles uneaten.
And before I left, I congratulated the wait staff. She was surprised until I immediately told it was for serving the worst coffee in the world.
I hope they go out of business soon.
So Expensive!
The last time we met when she came "home" (it's a difficult concept to explain here), Marlina complained that I am brutal with restaurants that fail to meet my exacting standards. I tried to explain that I'm about as objective as I can be. Still she held her ground. Fair enough. I may be harsh but I am fair.
So, this time, I want to hit out at "Hao Kou Wei" (Good Taste) in Downtown East. It is a foodcourt but man, everything inside there was so expensive (Hao Gui). For those who know how to speak Mandarin, saying hao kouwei quickly will get you hao gui.
From the rice stall, the kung pao chicken had more pieces of chicken skin than chicken meat, the sweet and sour pork had more pork rind and fats than pork; the vegetables were not washed clean and the portions were awfully small.
From the Korean food stall, the uncle is a lascivious scrooge. When he gives side dishes to go with your meal, he believes that giving you one additional anchovy will cause you gout, he believes that an additional kimchi piece will lead you to be unkissable for the entire night.
From the pig organ soup stall, the organ pieces are so small you can floss your teeth with them, the soup is heavily seasoned with MSG so you feel as though the soup is chockful of goodness, the pre-packed food stuff (e.g. meatballs) are boiled to death in the soups to coax every single ounce of articifical flavour out from the ball to the soup.
From the Japanese food stall, what you see is twice what you get. Enough said. From the handmade noodles stall, be thankful for what you can see, cos you almost can't eat anything. From...
Almost every stall exaggerates their portion sizes; the promise is never delivered. After your meal, you just wonder if you have actually eaten. In this regard, that food court has joined the "List of Banned Eating Places".
So, this time, I want to hit out at "Hao Kou Wei" (Good Taste) in Downtown East. It is a foodcourt but man, everything inside there was so expensive (Hao Gui). For those who know how to speak Mandarin, saying hao kouwei quickly will get you hao gui.
From the rice stall, the kung pao chicken had more pieces of chicken skin than chicken meat, the sweet and sour pork had more pork rind and fats than pork; the vegetables were not washed clean and the portions were awfully small.
From the Korean food stall, the uncle is a lascivious scrooge. When he gives side dishes to go with your meal, he believes that giving you one additional anchovy will cause you gout, he believes that an additional kimchi piece will lead you to be unkissable for the entire night.
From the pig organ soup stall, the organ pieces are so small you can floss your teeth with them, the soup is heavily seasoned with MSG so you feel as though the soup is chockful of goodness, the pre-packed food stuff (e.g. meatballs) are boiled to death in the soups to coax every single ounce of articifical flavour out from the ball to the soup.
From the Japanese food stall, what you see is twice what you get. Enough said. From the handmade noodles stall, be thankful for what you can see, cos you almost can't eat anything. From...
Almost every stall exaggerates their portion sizes; the promise is never delivered. After your meal, you just wonder if you have actually eaten. In this regard, that food court has joined the "List of Banned Eating Places".
Kissable Butt
The car's ass got kissed yesterday. Kissed hard! I cannot help but think of this following song, Embraceable You.
Change the lyrics to
Oh kiss it, my sweet so kissable butt
Oh kiss it, you know you so love my butt...
We were stopped in the second right-most lane at the cross junction of Crawford Street (towards Lavender Street) and Victoria Street. There right turn arrow came on to allow cars to turn right but the stupid car in front blocked the lane. So, it looks like we might go straight instead. Rightfully, the driver of this car should not line up in this lane but he did. It is just senseless, when you have two other straight moving lanes on the left. We were in this lane because we were ambivalent on the forward direction but since we are stuck, oh well.
Before we can finish cursing the stupid car in front, and me still in the ready to move off position in my front seat so that I can counteract the forces to overcome the car's move off inertia, we were rear-ended by a SMRT cab. The huge Toyota Crown moving off and hitting a stationary Honda Jazz must be a sight to behold. It was a hard enough bump to throw me forward and then I came back to hit my head against the headrest.
It took me a split second more than usual to realise we were bumped at the back. In fact, the cab driver was already down the car apologizing furiously to my housemate before I got off, hearing him say (in Mandarin) that he was sorry; it was all his fault.
He then offered to compensate for the damages if the cost is below $1000 bucks. Looking at the damage, I think it might be closer to $4000. Well, at least it was a courteous taxi driver we were dealing with and not some ill-bred hooligan.
The short of the long story - we ended up getting checked in the hospital. I was offered an injection for the pain I feel in my neck and back and an injection for the giddiness and nausea. Doc recommended the pain jab and I took it. Then there were x-rays - two at first and then another two more, when Doc determined that the first two could not show the C7 of the cervical spine as it was blocked by my muscles. Eh, got muscles leh. Must have developed them from screaming at kids.
Then, of all things, the second round of x-rays found I have a bone chip at C7. I'm seeing the orthopaedic surgeon in two weeks. Not much choice, it seems. But I think it shouldn't be too troublesome, since I am feeling quite ok.
Had a good sleep last night and today, I'm feeling the soreness all over. Let's just see how this entire episode ends up in the end. The curtain is just lifted and Act 1 (pun NOT intended) is just over.
I'm fine. I just have a lot of papers to grade and I'm sure they will grate. Oh, amen for the painkillers...
Change the lyrics to
Oh kiss it, my sweet so kissable butt
Oh kiss it, you know you so love my butt...
We were stopped in the second right-most lane at the cross junction of Crawford Street (towards Lavender Street) and Victoria Street. There right turn arrow came on to allow cars to turn right but the stupid car in front blocked the lane. So, it looks like we might go straight instead. Rightfully, the driver of this car should not line up in this lane but he did. It is just senseless, when you have two other straight moving lanes on the left. We were in this lane because we were ambivalent on the forward direction but since we are stuck, oh well.
Before we can finish cursing the stupid car in front, and me still in the ready to move off position in my front seat so that I can counteract the forces to overcome the car's move off inertia, we were rear-ended by a SMRT cab. The huge Toyota Crown moving off and hitting a stationary Honda Jazz must be a sight to behold. It was a hard enough bump to throw me forward and then I came back to hit my head against the headrest.
It took me a split second more than usual to realise we were bumped at the back. In fact, the cab driver was already down the car apologizing furiously to my housemate before I got off, hearing him say (in Mandarin) that he was sorry; it was all his fault.
He then offered to compensate for the damages if the cost is below $1000 bucks. Looking at the damage, I think it might be closer to $4000. Well, at least it was a courteous taxi driver we were dealing with and not some ill-bred hooligan.
The short of the long story - we ended up getting checked in the hospital. I was offered an injection for the pain I feel in my neck and back and an injection for the giddiness and nausea. Doc recommended the pain jab and I took it. Then there were x-rays - two at first and then another two more, when Doc determined that the first two could not show the C7 of the cervical spine as it was blocked by my muscles. Eh, got muscles leh. Must have developed them from screaming at kids.
Then, of all things, the second round of x-rays found I have a bone chip at C7. I'm seeing the orthopaedic surgeon in two weeks. Not much choice, it seems. But I think it shouldn't be too troublesome, since I am feeling quite ok.
Had a good sleep last night and today, I'm feeling the soreness all over. Let's just see how this entire episode ends up in the end. The curtain is just lifted and Act 1 (pun NOT intended) is just over.
I'm fine. I just have a lot of papers to grade and I'm sure they will grate. Oh, amen for the painkillers...
Monday, September 07, 2009
Answer to a Question
Someone asked why there was a need to write a thesis statement for an argument. After acknowledging that "the thesis statement will form the fundamentals of (an) argument", he goes on to argue that "this is still not a strong argument,... there must be other reasons that will make us write our own thesis statements instead of just writing a response towards the author's thesis statement."
In closing he hopes to be enlightended "on the meaning behind writing ... thesis statements," so that he will be "able to appreciate it." The person goes on to belittle what he learnt. In his own words, "What I am doing now is like following the 'rulebook' that you gave me which I believe I won't be able to learn (sic) beyond the semester. I hope you can help me appreciate writing my own thesis statements."
If this person wishes to impress me by showing that he is a thinking student, then I cannot be more disappointed. To denigrate the importance of the thesis statement to an argument is akin to saying that the foundation of a skyscraper plays no role in holding the building up.
Sure, writing a thesis statement is difficult. Trust me - Singaporeans do not dare to articulate anything that requires them to take a stand. Fence-sitting is our secret past time. That's why human kebabs are what we have. With the big wooden fence stake up their ass, many Singaporeans are stuffed anally. They bitch and complain about the pain but if we tell them to tell me what is exactly they are unhappy about so as to relieve themselves of the stake up their asses, they clam up and say nothing or they literally say "nothing". After growing up in an environment where taking a stand is all frowned upon - trust me, for argumentative compositions in secondary school, teachers still insist on making an ambivalent statement and argue on "both sides of the question" - there finally comes a time when taking a stand is necessary. The first thing many writing teachers have to fight is to teach students to take a stand, and not argue for both sides. (After they can write theses, we take the fight to making them write topic sentences. That'll be another entry, if another question erupts.)
I reproduce my full email reply below:
If I want a summary, I can write my own. If you want to criticise the author, you need to state your boundary and tell me the yardstick against which you are measuring the author before you can criticise him/her. Even then, you still need to explain to me what exactly is wrong with the author's argument, based on your main claim/thesis. For example, I can't possibly throw you out of class for long hair if the university does not have a policy that says "male students with long hair may be barred from class." If the uni has such a policy, you can certainly then test the university's policy (main claim and thesis) and see if they back up their thesis with evidence (i.e. throw you out of class and ban you from returning until your hair is cut). But there is no way the university can do anything to you if they do *not* state upfront their stand/thesis on long hair. One typically can't fight with one's shadow or argue with one's echo.
When there is one reading, it may not seem important that you come up with a thesis to guide your analysis of the article. But if you do not have a new position/view/argument to present on the reading you have done, you will be doing a mere article review. For instance, I can read Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and write a review, telling you what the story is about. Then that review is a mere summary retelling me the story.
But if I argue that Snow White is about the triumph of good (White) over evil (Black), then this is a new perspective that I derive from my reading and I need to defend it. For instance, apart from the fact that SW is fair, there are the seven dwarfs working in the deep dark woods - they are expectedly doing work there and one can argue that they are therefore "reducing the dark parts" of the woods. Extending, these little unsung heroes are slowly chipping away at "evil" and such work is likely to be hard and slow, especially given their small stature. By extension, I would argue that evil is slowly chipped away in a slow and protracted process. Of course, the white knight on the white horse can be another piece of evidence I quote for my argument. Now, can you see the difference between a mere review and an analytical read?
Now, if you read 2 or more readings, then what can you do after reading them? Surely, your readings must lead you to some kind of new insight and perspective. Having the ability to form a point of view separates us from primates, and we develop points of view not just for reading, but for most intellectual activities. For instance, after watching two movies, you may want to compare the underlying themes and make a fresh argument about them. What argument can you come up with after you watch, say, "Iron Man" and "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen"? You can't possibly write me a piece about the two movies where you just give me their plot summaries. Surely, you must have a new perspective. For one, I would argue that "an irony that movie entertainment seems to promote today is the use of violence as an answer to violence." That would be my TS. Someone may argue that "the act of vanquishing evil usually requires the good to resort to the same means as their opponents, thereby making good and evil largely undistinguishable" and have a different TS. Each different perspective adds to the overall picture for anyone interested to know what separates the two movies and how some viewers analyse the same shows.
In any academic pursuit, the thesis statement forms the basis of the argument. In math and sciences, you have laws and theorems that you prove (a form of argumentation) either by theoretical construction (e.g. in Math and some sciences) or experiments and trials (physics, chemistry). Thesis statements therefore can come in many guises but they essentially say the same thing. Yet, they are and can be proven differently, each proof being as good as the other. The Pythagoras' theorem, for instance, has more than 100 proofs (arguments), and all are valid. In this regard, there is no such thing as a "fixed" thesis in science and math, nor are there unique proofs/arguments.
The same observation may be said of theses and proofs in the non-science disciplines, there are many ways of making a case, mostly by alluding to evidence which are in the written or spoken form. Such arguments require interpretation and are considered indirect arguments. Even if you were to let everyone watch Ironman and Transformers and then give everyone the same TS to work on for their essay, you will get as many different essays as there are people. But if well taken, each and every argument is valid.
The thesis statement undergirds the job that you want to do and projects your intended outcome. For example, you cannot make a presentation on a business plan without telling people what your plan will achieve. No one is interested to know what you propose to do unless you tell them first what you can achieve; what your business plan intends achieves is your business thesis statement aka business proposition (yet another fancy name for the same concept). e.g. "Adopting double sided printing for notes to be given out to students will save an office up to 30% in printing costs, mostly accrued from saving extra paper."
Writing basic responses to a reading without making any constructive arguments on how to improve the reading is more similar to the work done in primary schools. That's when basic book reviews were taught. At university level, many basic skills you learn may not seem useful (to you) beyond the course; if it were indeed the case, the course where the skill is taught would have long been withdrawn.
In closing he hopes to be enlightended "on the meaning behind writing ... thesis statements," so that he will be "able to appreciate it." The person goes on to belittle what he learnt. In his own words, "What I am doing now is like following the 'rulebook' that you gave me which I believe I won't be able to learn (sic) beyond the semester. I hope you can help me appreciate writing my own thesis statements."
If this person wishes to impress me by showing that he is a thinking student, then I cannot be more disappointed. To denigrate the importance of the thesis statement to an argument is akin to saying that the foundation of a skyscraper plays no role in holding the building up.
Sure, writing a thesis statement is difficult. Trust me - Singaporeans do not dare to articulate anything that requires them to take a stand. Fence-sitting is our secret past time. That's why human kebabs are what we have. With the big wooden fence stake up their ass, many Singaporeans are stuffed anally. They bitch and complain about the pain but if we tell them to tell me what is exactly they are unhappy about so as to relieve themselves of the stake up their asses, they clam up and say nothing or they literally say "nothing". After growing up in an environment where taking a stand is all frowned upon - trust me, for argumentative compositions in secondary school, teachers still insist on making an ambivalent statement and argue on "both sides of the question" - there finally comes a time when taking a stand is necessary. The first thing many writing teachers have to fight is to teach students to take a stand, and not argue for both sides. (After they can write theses, we take the fight to making them write topic sentences. That'll be another entry, if another question erupts.)
I reproduce my full email reply below:
If I want a summary, I can write my own. If you want to criticise the author, you need to state your boundary and tell me the yardstick against which you are measuring the author before you can criticise him/her. Even then, you still need to explain to me what exactly is wrong with the author's argument, based on your main claim/thesis. For example, I can't possibly throw you out of class for long hair if the university does not have a policy that says "male students with long hair may be barred from class." If the uni has such a policy, you can certainly then test the university's policy (main claim and thesis) and see if they back up their thesis with evidence (i.e. throw you out of class and ban you from returning until your hair is cut). But there is no way the university can do anything to you if they do *not* state upfront their stand/thesis on long hair. One typically can't fight with one's shadow or argue with one's echo.
When there is one reading, it may not seem important that you come up with a thesis to guide your analysis of the article. But if you do not have a new position/view/argument to present on the reading you have done, you will be doing a mere article review. For instance, I can read Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and write a review, telling you what the story is about. Then that review is a mere summary retelling me the story.
But if I argue that Snow White is about the triumph of good (White) over evil (Black), then this is a new perspective that I derive from my reading and I need to defend it. For instance, apart from the fact that SW is fair, there are the seven dwarfs working in the deep dark woods - they are expectedly doing work there and one can argue that they are therefore "reducing the dark parts" of the woods. Extending, these little unsung heroes are slowly chipping away at "evil" and such work is likely to be hard and slow, especially given their small stature. By extension, I would argue that evil is slowly chipped away in a slow and protracted process. Of course, the white knight on the white horse can be another piece of evidence I quote for my argument. Now, can you see the difference between a mere review and an analytical read?
Now, if you read 2 or more readings, then what can you do after reading them? Surely, your readings must lead you to some kind of new insight and perspective. Having the ability to form a point of view separates us from primates, and we develop points of view not just for reading, but for most intellectual activities. For instance, after watching two movies, you may want to compare the underlying themes and make a fresh argument about them. What argument can you come up with after you watch, say, "Iron Man" and "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen"? You can't possibly write me a piece about the two movies where you just give me their plot summaries. Surely, you must have a new perspective. For one, I would argue that "an irony that movie entertainment seems to promote today is the use of violence as an answer to violence." That would be my TS. Someone may argue that "the act of vanquishing evil usually requires the good to resort to the same means as their opponents, thereby making good and evil largely undistinguishable" and have a different TS. Each different perspective adds to the overall picture for anyone interested to know what separates the two movies and how some viewers analyse the same shows.
In any academic pursuit, the thesis statement forms the basis of the argument. In math and sciences, you have laws and theorems that you prove (a form of argumentation) either by theoretical construction (e.g. in Math and some sciences) or experiments and trials (physics, chemistry). Thesis statements therefore can come in many guises but they essentially say the same thing. Yet, they are and can be proven differently, each proof being as good as the other. The Pythagoras' theorem, for instance, has more than 100 proofs (arguments), and all are valid. In this regard, there is no such thing as a "fixed" thesis in science and math, nor are there unique proofs/arguments.
The same observation may be said of theses and proofs in the non-science disciplines, there are many ways of making a case, mostly by alluding to evidence which are in the written or spoken form. Such arguments require interpretation and are considered indirect arguments. Even if you were to let everyone watch Ironman and Transformers and then give everyone the same TS to work on for their essay, you will get as many different essays as there are people. But if well taken, each and every argument is valid.
The thesis statement undergirds the job that you want to do and projects your intended outcome. For example, you cannot make a presentation on a business plan without telling people what your plan will achieve. No one is interested to know what you propose to do unless you tell them first what you can achieve; what your business plan intends achieves is your business thesis statement aka business proposition (yet another fancy name for the same concept). e.g. "Adopting double sided printing for notes to be given out to students will save an office up to 30% in printing costs, mostly accrued from saving extra paper."
Writing basic responses to a reading without making any constructive arguments on how to improve the reading is more similar to the work done in primary schools. That's when basic book reviews were taught. At university level, many basic skills you learn may not seem useful (to you) beyond the course; if it were indeed the case, the course where the skill is taught would have long been withdrawn.
Friday, September 04, 2009
Compassion of Guanyin's Twin
Two student-related incidents stuck out very clearly in my mind since term started three weeks ago.
The first incident relates to a student who gave me the feeling that he was trying to pull wool over my eyes. The student said he could not locate the lab where he was supposed to meet me for writing conference for Assignment 1. He claimed he asked the guards at School X and they did not know either. So he went home. After that, he wrote me an email to ask to see me on another occasion for his Assignment 1.
It is not that I am unreasonable but I faced many internal hurdles to say yes. First, he had my cell phone number. If he were in school, he could have easily given me a call, when he found out that the guards were none the wiser where the lab is. Second, I did tell the class where the lab is. Third, a student who also could not be sure she could locate the lab arrived two hours earlier than her scheduled timeslot. She just completed her "recce" of the lab, she said. I saw her immediately when she arrived, since I could fit her into my schedule. Fourth, I made his classmate call him. I'm not sure if the classmate made the call, but he certainly sent out a message. Fifth and last, he could have called a friend. At the end of it all, I replied with these reasons and told him that if he has one good and honest reason to explain his absence, I would see him.
I am easy. Even an admission that he wasn't in the university and a simple apology would work for me. What I do not want is to accept his lame excuse that he could not find the place. How can it be that of the nearly 50 students I meet, he was the only one who cannot find the place?
The second incident involved students not reading the assigned articles and coming to class unprepared. Their actions culminated in the love letter two entries down. I went to class the day after the love letter was sent out and immediately realised those whom I knew did not read their articles during earlier classes chose seats at the back of the class and in the middle of each seating row, hoping that their relative inconvenient location could escape my prying eyes.
I surprised both classes by telling them I would not throw them out of class that day, since the email went out to them less than 48 hours in advance and that would not be nice of me. However, I told them firmly that on Tuesday next when we meet, if I catch them unprepared, I will humiliate them in class before I throw them out and mark them absent. They have been warned. I know I am giving tough love; the best medicine for them is the bitterest pill. But am I so glad to be such a monster?
In class, I discussed the abridged Toulmin argumentation method and used the love letter as an example to illustrate the argumentation techniques. I think it left them with a deep enough impression, since I taught them how to write excellent stinkers. After that, I took them on a tour of how to dissect the arguments in an article using the technique. While the class enjoyed themselves for that class, I told them that I no longer care if they are Freshmen; if they can't keep up, tough luck.
All in all, I told them I have the as much compassion as of the twin brother of Guanyin (the Goddess of Mercy). Many of them knew who I was referring to straightaway.
The first incident relates to a student who gave me the feeling that he was trying to pull wool over my eyes. The student said he could not locate the lab where he was supposed to meet me for writing conference for Assignment 1. He claimed he asked the guards at School X and they did not know either. So he went home. After that, he wrote me an email to ask to see me on another occasion for his Assignment 1.
It is not that I am unreasonable but I faced many internal hurdles to say yes. First, he had my cell phone number. If he were in school, he could have easily given me a call, when he found out that the guards were none the wiser where the lab is. Second, I did tell the class where the lab is. Third, a student who also could not be sure she could locate the lab arrived two hours earlier than her scheduled timeslot. She just completed her "recce" of the lab, she said. I saw her immediately when she arrived, since I could fit her into my schedule. Fourth, I made his classmate call him. I'm not sure if the classmate made the call, but he certainly sent out a message. Fifth and last, he could have called a friend. At the end of it all, I replied with these reasons and told him that if he has one good and honest reason to explain his absence, I would see him.
I am easy. Even an admission that he wasn't in the university and a simple apology would work for me. What I do not want is to accept his lame excuse that he could not find the place. How can it be that of the nearly 50 students I meet, he was the only one who cannot find the place?
The second incident involved students not reading the assigned articles and coming to class unprepared. Their actions culminated in the love letter two entries down. I went to class the day after the love letter was sent out and immediately realised those whom I knew did not read their articles during earlier classes chose seats at the back of the class and in the middle of each seating row, hoping that their relative inconvenient location could escape my prying eyes.
I surprised both classes by telling them I would not throw them out of class that day, since the email went out to them less than 48 hours in advance and that would not be nice of me. However, I told them firmly that on Tuesday next when we meet, if I catch them unprepared, I will humiliate them in class before I throw them out and mark them absent. They have been warned. I know I am giving tough love; the best medicine for them is the bitterest pill. But am I so glad to be such a monster?
In class, I discussed the abridged Toulmin argumentation method and used the love letter as an example to illustrate the argumentation techniques. I think it left them with a deep enough impression, since I taught them how to write excellent stinkers. After that, I took them on a tour of how to dissect the arguments in an article using the technique. While the class enjoyed themselves for that class, I told them that I no longer care if they are Freshmen; if they can't keep up, tough luck.
All in all, I told them I have the as much compassion as of the twin brother of Guanyin (the Goddess of Mercy). Many of them knew who I was referring to straightaway.
The next time you wear it inside out, then...
After the Burgernomics and other crazes used to measure the state of the economy, the spending power of your dollar and others, the Americans have now coined the Men's Underwear Index, which claims that "sales of men's underwear typically are stable because they rank as a necessity. But during times of severe financial strain, men will try to stretch the time between buying new pairs, causing underwear sales to dip."
According to the report, "(men's underwear is) a prolonged purchase," said Marshal Cohen, senior analyst with the consumer research firm NPD Group. "It's like trying to drive your car an extra 10,000 miles."
I can't help but imagine my Yankee friends first wearing undies inside out, then reversing it to wear it back-to-front, and finally wearing them back-to-front inside out. That could get them an extra 10,000 miles, I bet. Or maybe a little more, since he found a couple more possible permutations, say another 25,000 miles. *wink!* (Of course, I should cite my sources - this inside out, back-to-front thingy is a perverted idea from Army Daze. Eh, don't say ew... I haven't suggested - yet - that best friends can swap their...)
But honestly, why measure this underwear thing? It is freaking inaccurate! A foreigner like me just scored around 30 CKs for a friend and I this year. From the US no less! When I was at Macy's and Century 21, most guys buying undies were tourists. Perhaps even before my suggestion, the US guys already know the sweet little secret of getting extended wear time on their joystick covers.
Maybe the US economy is doing worse than it really is. My friends are all complaining about things but a dip in 0.5% in underwear sales doesn't seem much to me. Perhaps an average bra price and sales index might have an even better story to tell...
According to the report, "(men's underwear is) a prolonged purchase," said Marshal Cohen, senior analyst with the consumer research firm NPD Group. "It's like trying to drive your car an extra 10,000 miles."
I can't help but imagine my Yankee friends first wearing undies inside out, then reversing it to wear it back-to-front, and finally wearing them back-to-front inside out. That could get them an extra 10,000 miles, I bet. Or maybe a little more, since he found a couple more possible permutations, say another 25,000 miles. *wink!* (Of course, I should cite my sources - this inside out, back-to-front thingy is a perverted idea from Army Daze. Eh, don't say ew... I haven't suggested - yet - that best friends can swap their...)
But honestly, why measure this underwear thing? It is freaking inaccurate! A foreigner like me just scored around 30 CKs for a friend and I this year. From the US no less! When I was at Macy's and Century 21, most guys buying undies were tourists. Perhaps even before my suggestion, the US guys already know the sweet little secret of getting extended wear time on their joystick covers.
Maybe the US economy is doing worse than it really is. My friends are all complaining about things but a dip in 0.5% in underwear sales doesn't seem much to me. Perhaps an average bra price and sales index might have an even better story to tell...
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
Exasperation 4
I have had enough! As I can no longer tolerate any more nonsense during my lessons, I sent out the following as a part of a larger email to my groups.
Class Conduct
"COURSE X" requires all students to come in prepared for the lesson. During my rounds in class on Tue 1 Sep as well as during the previous few lessons, I noticed many of you came in to class prepared. At least you have read the articles and tried to come in prepared. Thank you and keep up the good work. However, I also observed that some of you did NOT read before coming to class. You know who you are; you were trying very hard to evade detection (especially when I ask for volunteers for class presentations) and were furiously trying to catch up during the discussions. I am not oblivious to your unbecoming behaviour. There is another telling sign of your unprepared state: Your reading is annotation-free. Surely, there are questions that you might have, clarifications that you might need or notes that you can make to remind you of the idea flow of the passage.
Reading and making sense of the assigned readings is the first and most elementary step in a student's preparations. Coming in prepared is also the minimum respect students show themselves, the minimum basic courtesy they show their friends and the minimum effort students put in to being contributors in the group. Given that you are freshmen, I have already given you a two week grace period for you to get used to university life and get up to speed with the demands of university classes. At this point, you have exhausted all the goodwill that I can possibly offer. I HAVE RUN OUT OF PATIENCE AND TOLERANCE FOR STUDENTS WHO COME TO CLASS UNPREPARED.
From the next lesson onwards, students who have entirely annotation-free article printouts and claim that they have read and understood the assigned article shall immediately take the floor and lead the class in the discussion of the article. At the same time, they must be able to answer all the questions that I have regarding the article. If any student is unprepared or if I deem him/her unprepared, the student will be removed immediately from the lesson and may be considered ABSENT. It is my duty to remind that the university's absenteeism policy will still apply.
We can all be very adult when handling matters related to class conduct; if students cannot behave like adults and be responsible for themselves, I will have no choice but to resort to management methods meant for younger students.
Class Conduct
"COURSE X" requires all students to come in prepared for the lesson. During my rounds in class on Tue 1 Sep as well as during the previous few lessons, I noticed many of you came in to class prepared. At least you have read the articles and tried to come in prepared. Thank you and keep up the good work. However, I also observed that some of you did NOT read before coming to class. You know who you are; you were trying very hard to evade detection (especially when I ask for volunteers for class presentations) and were furiously trying to catch up during the discussions. I am not oblivious to your unbecoming behaviour. There is another telling sign of your unprepared state: Your reading is annotation-free. Surely, there are questions that you might have, clarifications that you might need or notes that you can make to remind you of the idea flow of the passage.
Reading and making sense of the assigned readings is the first and most elementary step in a student's preparations. Coming in prepared is also the minimum respect students show themselves, the minimum basic courtesy they show their friends and the minimum effort students put in to being contributors in the group. Given that you are freshmen, I have already given you a two week grace period for you to get used to university life and get up to speed with the demands of university classes. At this point, you have exhausted all the goodwill that I can possibly offer. I HAVE RUN OUT OF PATIENCE AND TOLERANCE FOR STUDENTS WHO COME TO CLASS UNPREPARED.
From the next lesson onwards, students who have entirely annotation-free article printouts and claim that they have read and understood the assigned article shall immediately take the floor and lead the class in the discussion of the article. At the same time, they must be able to answer all the questions that I have regarding the article. If any student is unprepared or if I deem him/her unprepared, the student will be removed immediately from the lesson and may be considered ABSENT. It is my duty to remind that the university's absenteeism policy will still apply.
We can all be very adult when handling matters related to class conduct; if students cannot behave like adults and be responsible for themselves, I will have no choice but to resort to management methods meant for younger students.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Exasperation 3
Took the TOEFL on Sunday. I am still seething by the humiliation of it all.
I probably write better than 80% of the Americans, I am well-understood when I speak around the world, I can understand most forms of standard speech (drawls are a different story) and I got a great score on GRE Writing.
My 4 year basic degree from my national university is in English Langauge. And I've gone through 16 years of formal education in English and I've gone through 1 year of teacher training, also in English. Damn, I'm even a qualified EL teacher. For the record, I'm teaching writing in a unversity!
Yet, I am required to eat humble pie and take the TOEFL. And all TOEFL tests is how much I can figure out their tricks in reading comprehension, how much I can recall from fake conversations and scripted lectures, how much I can speak about topics that are far removed from my life and how well I can write about some kiddy topic which I have not dealt since years ago!
Oh, never mind. It's all for a larger goal.
Someone should stop these Americans from bleeding us dry, imposing blanket requirements that are utterly irrelevant to many of us. When would the Yankees stop thinking that only white people in some lands can use English competently whereas a place like Singapore, where many of their academics come to teach and where their CON-(IN)-sult-ants come to grab money, is completely EL incompetent?
Many Singaporeans speak and write better than the Commonwealth peoples of Australia and New Zealand. I only wonder what it might be about "Maaaaate, how are you to-die?" that makes the Yankees love the Aussies to death. And for the record, I know how to use my apostrophes!
PS. The most probably reason for enforcing TOEFL on places like Singapore is for the money. So any attempt to fight this requirement will be a lost cause.
I probably write better than 80% of the Americans, I am well-understood when I speak around the world, I can understand most forms of standard speech (drawls are a different story) and I got a great score on GRE Writing.
My 4 year basic degree from my national university is in English Langauge. And I've gone through 16 years of formal education in English and I've gone through 1 year of teacher training, also in English. Damn, I'm even a qualified EL teacher. For the record, I'm teaching writing in a unversity!
Yet, I am required to eat humble pie and take the TOEFL. And all TOEFL tests is how much I can figure out their tricks in reading comprehension, how much I can recall from fake conversations and scripted lectures, how much I can speak about topics that are far removed from my life and how well I can write about some kiddy topic which I have not dealt since years ago!
Oh, never mind. It's all for a larger goal.
Someone should stop these Americans from bleeding us dry, imposing blanket requirements that are utterly irrelevant to many of us. When would the Yankees stop thinking that only white people in some lands can use English competently whereas a place like Singapore, where many of their academics come to teach and where their CON-(IN)-sult-ants come to grab money, is completely EL incompetent?
Many Singaporeans speak and write better than the Commonwealth peoples of Australia and New Zealand. I only wonder what it might be about "Maaaaate, how are you to-die?" that makes the Yankees love the Aussies to death. And for the record, I know how to use my apostrophes!
PS. The most probably reason for enforcing TOEFL on places like Singapore is for the money. So any attempt to fight this requirement will be a lost cause.
Exasperation 2
It's ok to be stupid. But lazy too? That's a deadly combo.
I caught my freshmen napping on their readings. They did not come to class prepared. And they no-can-do in class presentations of the readings when I tried to ask them to do it.
One group picked up my motives when I skipped the first reading which they were not prepared for. A group quickly stood up and made a lousy second presentation and took some flak for their poor work. Then a second group took on the presentation for the third reading. They too were asked tough questions. But I generally kept my cool and gave them lots of latitude. I just wanted to drive home the point that if you are going to fall behind in your readings, please don't come to class. I won't teach and if you can't share, no one will learn.
The second group was really dumb. They kept quiet as I asked for volunteers to present the three readings. Despite snide remarks about how "the class is so smart that they need not have even a single question?" and "how amazing that in this group, everyone is clear what is going on!" could not get them to move their butts. So, I told them, at this rate we are mastering our work, I can finish teaching the entire syllabus by next week.
No one in the second group had the integrity to admit they had not read their readings. No one had the guts to stand up and take a fall for the class.
No one wants to present, so there is nothing for me to do. I won't be sucked into talking about the readings, chanting to the walls... Can you imagine you walking them through a passage and then having to tell them on which page and which line you are at because they simply cannot follow the discussion as they are grossly underprepared? I absolutely hated that and that's why the lesson!
Let's watch the freshmen bomb for Assignment 1.
I caught my freshmen napping on their readings. They did not come to class prepared. And they no-can-do in class presentations of the readings when I tried to ask them to do it.
One group picked up my motives when I skipped the first reading which they were not prepared for. A group quickly stood up and made a lousy second presentation and took some flak for their poor work. Then a second group took on the presentation for the third reading. They too were asked tough questions. But I generally kept my cool and gave them lots of latitude. I just wanted to drive home the point that if you are going to fall behind in your readings, please don't come to class. I won't teach and if you can't share, no one will learn.
The second group was really dumb. They kept quiet as I asked for volunteers to present the three readings. Despite snide remarks about how "the class is so smart that they need not have even a single question?" and "how amazing that in this group, everyone is clear what is going on!" could not get them to move their butts. So, I told them, at this rate we are mastering our work, I can finish teaching the entire syllabus by next week.
No one in the second group had the integrity to admit they had not read their readings. No one had the guts to stand up and take a fall for the class.
No one wants to present, so there is nothing for me to do. I won't be sucked into talking about the readings, chanting to the walls... Can you imagine you walking them through a passage and then having to tell them on which page and which line you are at because they simply cannot follow the discussion as they are grossly underprepared? I absolutely hated that and that's why the lesson!
Let's watch the freshmen bomb for Assignment 1.
Exasperation 1
A new student wanted tuition for JC 1 (Grade 11) math. He's repeating the grade because he failed it last year.
There was a lot of work to catch up for him and I can see a tough road ahead. I tried getting him to come twice a week and both he and his dad agreed. Initially. Then he didn't attend the first class last week and the dad tried cutting down the duration of class from 2 hours to 1 hour for the second class last week.
After sonny missed the first class and old man asked for the abbreviation of class duration for the second class (and second time - he did it at the last minute for the first "trial" class too, after agreeing to a 2 hours session), I told the father that I did not see any value in taking his money and not helping his son out. There was absolutely no reason to teach just an hour because it was pedagogically ineffective and if I do not deliver results, I'm happier not to take the money.
Eventually, the dad admitted that he had problems with paying my fees. He then tried to bargain with me. It was odd, because if he deemed my fees high, he could have either bargained right at the start or simply not engage me. Honestly, if he had bargained right at the beginning, I would have directed them to a tuition agency. But two weeks later, I have also did the same. I asked the dad to get help from a tuition agency and see if they were willing to help.
My only exasperation - not being able to help the son.
I am no angel or saint. Tutoring is a livelihood and if I'm going to dig deep and catch up in 7 weeks what the son failed to master in the past 20 months and deliver some results, I cannot help but expect to be duly compensated.
There was a lot of work to catch up for him and I can see a tough road ahead. I tried getting him to come twice a week and both he and his dad agreed. Initially. Then he didn't attend the first class last week and the dad tried cutting down the duration of class from 2 hours to 1 hour for the second class last week.
After sonny missed the first class and old man asked for the abbreviation of class duration for the second class (and second time - he did it at the last minute for the first "trial" class too, after agreeing to a 2 hours session), I told the father that I did not see any value in taking his money and not helping his son out. There was absolutely no reason to teach just an hour because it was pedagogically ineffective and if I do not deliver results, I'm happier not to take the money.
Eventually, the dad admitted that he had problems with paying my fees. He then tried to bargain with me. It was odd, because if he deemed my fees high, he could have either bargained right at the start or simply not engage me. Honestly, if he had bargained right at the beginning, I would have directed them to a tuition agency. But two weeks later, I have also did the same. I asked the dad to get help from a tuition agency and see if they were willing to help.
My only exasperation - not being able to help the son.
I am no angel or saint. Tutoring is a livelihood and if I'm going to dig deep and catch up in 7 weeks what the son failed to master in the past 20 months and deliver some results, I cannot help but expect to be duly compensated.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
School Term Begins
I've already finished teaching my first week of classes and yet, the University is still adding students to my groups. That means I'd have to teach thesis statement writing all over again.
I've collected about 45 reading responses from the students and slaved through them for the past 3 days. To be honest, the standard of the writing is pretty galling. I shudder when I read, "everyone has a double sided sword." I really wonder where people keep this sword. In their pants?
I've asked to see a number of students so I can talk about their writing problems with them. Many of them write extremely long sentences, which mostly end up as mega-fragments or illogical and ungrammatical run-ons or comma splices.
Many are making the "this" error. This is a nuisance because I simply don't know what "this" stands for. The referent is not clear. Others use thus, therefore and hence when there is a non-conclusion. I see randon punctuations, wrong punctuations and missing punctuations.
If these were not bad enough, some students didn't know how to set margins, how to set double spacing, how to use 12 point font, how to... Maybe I should have another MS Word tutorial for the class, in addition to teaching them basic argumentation techniques.
Still, I'm happy with the papers I've received. At least I now have a tangible enemy to fight against. With the additional help that I'm giving to the weaker kids, I hope I'll never have to end up giving another D or D+ again.
I've collected about 45 reading responses from the students and slaved through them for the past 3 days. To be honest, the standard of the writing is pretty galling. I shudder when I read, "everyone has a double sided sword." I really wonder where people keep this sword. In their pants?
I've asked to see a number of students so I can talk about their writing problems with them. Many of them write extremely long sentences, which mostly end up as mega-fragments or illogical and ungrammatical run-ons or comma splices.
Many are making the "this" error. This is a nuisance because I simply don't know what "this" stands for. The referent is not clear. Others use thus, therefore and hence when there is a non-conclusion. I see randon punctuations, wrong punctuations and missing punctuations.
If these were not bad enough, some students didn't know how to set margins, how to set double spacing, how to use 12 point font, how to... Maybe I should have another MS Word tutorial for the class, in addition to teaching them basic argumentation techniques.
Still, I'm happy with the papers I've received. At least I now have a tangible enemy to fight against. With the additional help that I'm giving to the weaker kids, I hope I'll never have to end up giving another D or D+ again.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Shit Happens AGAIN!
Posting
Settings
Layout
Monetize
View Blog
New Post
Edit Posts
Comment Moderation
ERROR
I was about to bitch about some guy who read a book that asked him to do an MCQ on the question, "If a beggar asks you for money as you walk down the street, what would you do?"
Damn.
Settings
Layout
Monetize
View Blog
New Post
Edit Posts
Comment Moderation
ERROR
I was about to bitch about some guy who read a book that asked him to do an MCQ on the question, "If a beggar asks you for money as you walk down the street, what would you do?"
Damn.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Elections Coming?
The annual National Day Rally by the Prime Minister last night was a nicely veiled work review of the tasks his cabinet and members of parliament have been given and a report of the updates and achievements. As I sit through the entire speech, the signs of an upcoming elections are obvious. The Prime Minister is not different from a director making an annual update to his upper management the jobs he has assigned to his deputies and folks. Time to give me a promotion. Or for that matter, time to return me to office one more time. Otherwise, why would anyone have to do that at a NDR?
The usual slew of topics - bitching about Singaporeans not giving birth and announcing bonuses - is absent. Of course, what my government and I cannot achieve, we pay less attention to it. Let's showcase our successes instead. So, there were takes on issues such as religious tolerance, the AH1N1, Singapore past and now and possibly the future, and infrastructural updates. PM highlighted the work of all the ministries and gave them kudos.
Of course, in a speech like this, there were no lacking in certain understated but not to be missed moments.
PM Lee envision Singapore to be a Garden of Eden state. If I am not wrong, God owned the Garden of Eden. Enough said.
PM Lee said that people should be inclusive enough so that it is possible for people of different faiths to have a meal at the same table. Even if you don't eat what I eat, it is still possible to share a table. As yourself how many times certain meals must be from a particular religion and every one is forced to eat that, regardless? If there is inclusiveness, then let me eat what I want. In fact, I have asked my neighbour if he minded food that are free of his religious taboos but is cooked in my kitchen. His answer was yes, he minded. So there. Again, enough said.
PM spoke of how a clash between a funeral and a wedding took place. The wedding folks eventually acquiesced and chose an alternative, nearby venue and the town council waived utility charges. Er... I'm pretty sure if the dead person could walk, s/he might want to change a venue to save on charges too? Why not be fair and waive both charges?
PM spoke of the importance of the government to remain secular and the NGOs be that way too so that no one religious group can use such platforms to spread any of their (fanatic) agenda. He also wanted common space to exist. If that is the case, then why is Section 377A still in existence. The government and the laws should be above the religion! Anyone running afoul of Section 377A is a violation of "contract" between the person and the government; what have strong religious sentiment got to do with it? Why even use groups of fervent opposers as an excuse not to overturn the outdated law?
PM spoke of how the picture depicting the NS man (in the Mount Faber SAFRA) is appropriate - his wife is behind him and his kids beside. And how many NS men aren't married, can't even keep a wife, are divorced, don't want the kids they have, have a broken family etc? The rosy pictures are always nice. But show how it really is for the real NS man out there. Do you actually see us struggling with our IPPT? Do you actually see us losing out because of our ICT? Do you even see us?
PM spoke of how the PAP government brought the people out of slums and squatters. The audience laughed when PM spoke about Lim Kim San's visit to Chinatown where he faced a man lying in bed wrapped up in his blanket who claimed that he was being courteous to Mr Lim: his bunk mate and him shared a pair of trousers (gay??) and his mate has worn those trousers out to work then. What's with the laughter? What is so funny? Have we really moved out of poverty? If it were funny sharing trousers in the 1950s, then why is it not funny not having enough money to pay utility bills, pay children's school fees, pay town council charges, or even buy food for a proper meal? Haven't these people who should live with a d*mned paper bag over their heads for living beyond their means have even more to laugh about? Yet, why are they queueing up for handouts? Did they really live beyond their means or have they really no choice but have to live that way? Have we really rid Singapore of poverty? Are our lives really better now than before?
PM spoke of how people benefited from the government housing programme but he plain forgot that the very same government deprived most single Singaporeans from being able to benefit from any housing subsidies. (To qualify for any subsidy, a single must earn less than $3,000 per month. Pray tell how is that possible?) Worse, single Singaporeans now face housing prices that are way beyond their reach. Remember, singles can only buy from the open market and not directly from the Housing and Development Board. Open market flats which cost less than $100 000 from HDB when the owners first bought them cost at least 3 to 5 times as much in the open market. Singles who are attempting to own a unit will be saddled with a mountain of lifetime debt!
There are even more that I can talk about but the bottom line is this. We are busy building and rebuilding and even remaking Singapore into something more and more vibrant and cosmopolitan. However, little provision is made for the common man and its rapidly aging population. Step down facilities to be twinned with acute care hospitals are just one measure for the aged. How about other measures? What happens when I decide to retire? Even if the government raises retirement ages up to 80 years old, there will be one day when I cannot get out of bed any more. Or I simply won't. Then what? Am I condemned to work from 18 to 80 just because I am Singaporean, am poor and have no way to go?
There is little doubt that the PAP government will continue to rule Singapore for at least the next 15 to 20 years. I am no prophet and I am not in the business of speculation so I won't project beyond that. My only question is a simple one: When I am ready to go, where should I be so I can afford to die?
The usual slew of topics - bitching about Singaporeans not giving birth and announcing bonuses - is absent. Of course, what my government and I cannot achieve, we pay less attention to it. Let's showcase our successes instead. So, there were takes on issues such as religious tolerance, the AH1N1, Singapore past and now and possibly the future, and infrastructural updates. PM highlighted the work of all the ministries and gave them kudos.
Of course, in a speech like this, there were no lacking in certain understated but not to be missed moments.
PM Lee envision Singapore to be a Garden of Eden state. If I am not wrong, God owned the Garden of Eden. Enough said.
PM Lee said that people should be inclusive enough so that it is possible for people of different faiths to have a meal at the same table. Even if you don't eat what I eat, it is still possible to share a table. As yourself how many times certain meals must be from a particular religion and every one is forced to eat that, regardless? If there is inclusiveness, then let me eat what I want. In fact, I have asked my neighbour if he minded food that are free of his religious taboos but is cooked in my kitchen. His answer was yes, he minded. So there. Again, enough said.
PM spoke of how a clash between a funeral and a wedding took place. The wedding folks eventually acquiesced and chose an alternative, nearby venue and the town council waived utility charges. Er... I'm pretty sure if the dead person could walk, s/he might want to change a venue to save on charges too? Why not be fair and waive both charges?
PM spoke of the importance of the government to remain secular and the NGOs be that way too so that no one religious group can use such platforms to spread any of their (fanatic) agenda. He also wanted common space to exist. If that is the case, then why is Section 377A still in existence. The government and the laws should be above the religion! Anyone running afoul of Section 377A is a violation of "contract" between the person and the government; what have strong religious sentiment got to do with it? Why even use groups of fervent opposers as an excuse not to overturn the outdated law?
PM spoke of how the picture depicting the NS man (in the Mount Faber SAFRA) is appropriate - his wife is behind him and his kids beside. And how many NS men aren't married, can't even keep a wife, are divorced, don't want the kids they have, have a broken family etc? The rosy pictures are always nice. But show how it really is for the real NS man out there. Do you actually see us struggling with our IPPT? Do you actually see us losing out because of our ICT? Do you even see us?
PM spoke of how the PAP government brought the people out of slums and squatters. The audience laughed when PM spoke about Lim Kim San's visit to Chinatown where he faced a man lying in bed wrapped up in his blanket who claimed that he was being courteous to Mr Lim: his bunk mate and him shared a pair of trousers (gay??) and his mate has worn those trousers out to work then. What's with the laughter? What is so funny? Have we really moved out of poverty? If it were funny sharing trousers in the 1950s, then why is it not funny not having enough money to pay utility bills, pay children's school fees, pay town council charges, or even buy food for a proper meal? Haven't these people who should live with a d*mned paper bag over their heads for living beyond their means have even more to laugh about? Yet, why are they queueing up for handouts? Did they really live beyond their means or have they really no choice but have to live that way? Have we really rid Singapore of poverty? Are our lives really better now than before?
PM spoke of how people benefited from the government housing programme but he plain forgot that the very same government deprived most single Singaporeans from being able to benefit from any housing subsidies. (To qualify for any subsidy, a single must earn less than $3,000 per month. Pray tell how is that possible?) Worse, single Singaporeans now face housing prices that are way beyond their reach. Remember, singles can only buy from the open market and not directly from the Housing and Development Board. Open market flats which cost less than $100 000 from HDB when the owners first bought them cost at least 3 to 5 times as much in the open market. Singles who are attempting to own a unit will be saddled with a mountain of lifetime debt!
There are even more that I can talk about but the bottom line is this. We are busy building and rebuilding and even remaking Singapore into something more and more vibrant and cosmopolitan. However, little provision is made for the common man and its rapidly aging population. Step down facilities to be twinned with acute care hospitals are just one measure for the aged. How about other measures? What happens when I decide to retire? Even if the government raises retirement ages up to 80 years old, there will be one day when I cannot get out of bed any more. Or I simply won't. Then what? Am I condemned to work from 18 to 80 just because I am Singaporean, am poor and have no way to go?
There is little doubt that the PAP government will continue to rule Singapore for at least the next 15 to 20 years. I am no prophet and I am not in the business of speculation so I won't project beyond that. My only question is a simple one: When I am ready to go, where should I be so I can afford to die?
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Alternative Rock
I think I'm getting older. I begin to appreciate Alternative Rock.
Keane's Somewhere Only We Know
and Coldplay's Viva La Vida now strike me as listenable.
The irony of the social concerns feature and they are snide takes on many events in the world. Wiki probably has a good explanation on what alternative rock means.
Just as country and soft rock are more endearing and possibly less critical genre of music, alternative rock has a grudging vibe. It appeals to me because it has a strong story and I must 'fess I prefer the more narrative alternative rock. The heavy artillery sound is still not my kind of music.
Enjoy.
Keane's Somewhere Only We Know
and Coldplay's Viva La Vida now strike me as listenable.
The irony of the social concerns feature and they are snide takes on many events in the world. Wiki probably has a good explanation on what alternative rock means.
Just as country and soft rock are more endearing and possibly less critical genre of music, alternative rock has a grudging vibe. It appeals to me because it has a strong story and I must 'fess I prefer the more narrative alternative rock. The heavy artillery sound is still not my kind of music.
Enjoy.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Friday, August 14, 2009
Blogspot is screwed again
Why is it that Blogspot is now giving me a screen that goes...
Posting
Settings
Layout
Monetize
View Blog
New Post
Edit Posts
Comment Moderation
ERROR
There, this is a cut and paste. I didn't even realise that there was a publised error code. Damn, this is getting pretty sickening and every time I try to blog, I get such nonsense and I lose interest.
Perhaps it's a sign to tell me to stop blogging.
Posting
Settings
Layout
Monetize
View Blog
New Post
Edit Posts
Comment Moderation
ERROR
There, this is a cut and paste. I didn't even realise that there was a publised error code. Damn, this is getting pretty sickening and every time I try to blog, I get such nonsense and I lose interest.
Perhaps it's a sign to tell me to stop blogging.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Busy Period
University term begins next week and it's a mad mad period updating the materials. No thanks to the late information I get from the course coordinator.
More to rush through and more to think about. And still, there are many holes to plug. Sigh.
More to rush through and more to think about. And still, there are many holes to plug. Sigh.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Singapore is 44!
I have never felt so "underwhelmed" when watching a National Day Parade. I can't be jaded till I am not even excited about the day off when the Nation celebrates its independence. The main problem with the parade was the wrong focus.
The media folks have been led round and round to the concept of the Singapore Story in 10 Chapters. That's the problem. The hang-up now becomes 10 chapters, not whether if we do need 10 chapters or if there could be a better way to project a new-story. Not new story. New-story, a politically-correct reinvention and retelling of the factually correct boring tale of history? Like old lamps for new? Ok, now you get it.
NDP 2009 took on too much on its shoulders. To think the country is 44 and the entire parade tried to tell so many things at one go. Imagine with Singapore is 440! Then what? Does NDP 2405 begin on 8 Jul till 9 Aug? C'mon. Think carefully, select properly.
The segment which showcased how a terrorist attack would cripple Singapore was hilarious. Cheryl Fox came on Channel Faux News Asia and began announcing that there is an attack on Singapore. Blah blah blah. And the NDP organisers did not have good sense to have a running subtitle showing "NDP 2009" across the stage. If, indeed, terrorist trained illegal immigrants floated using NTUC plastic bags filled with plastic explosives infiltrated Singapore at the same time and bombed the living daylights out of Changi, no one would have believed if the emergency news bulletin came on.
And funnier still. There was a side bar showing that Singapore traded at over 4 dollars to the US dollar. Is that the sign of the fiscal policies that we are adopting to stay viable? Depreciate the Sing Dollar till the Americans will send Seagate back to set up another factory because we are now only a third as expensive? And our poor Yusuf Ishaks didn't bounce back after the terror attacks were foiled. So... what's the difference whether or not there is an attack?
One hilarity was the cold fireworks on the tail on the terrorist sea scooter. Do we really think that in this day and age, anyone wishing to knock out our lights are going to use such equipment and flag himself/herself out for all to see?
And then the parade sequence went down quicker than Michael Jackson on barbiturates from that point. I've completely lost interest and couldn't wait for Singapore Idol - see, I'm still damned patriotic, right? - to come on. (Of course, falling asleep while watching idol is another story.)
Some of the less inspiring moments of the parade:
1. Poor lighting. I still cannot understand how MediaCorp lighting folks could allow things such as yellow light on red costumes, white light on white canvas to happen. They much have done the equivalent of at least 100 NDPs. I know, since each NDP is preceded by at least 5 rehearsals. Unforgiveable.
2. Senseless commentary. Anyone trying to figure out what the Channel 5 folks were commenting would probably be so lost the parade lost its entire meaning. 'nuff said.
3. Badly focused camera angles. I don't think we even knew who was the officer in commanding for the ceremonial 21 gun salute. I saw poorly composed pictures on my screens. I'm never able to see the full picture of what is going on. Otherwise, when I see the full picture, nothing is going on. Or maybe, nothing is really going on.
4. Gawdy or inappropriate costumes. One of the second lieutenants bearing a colours flag is probably off to some 80s hijink after that; he was wearing white bell bottoms for his uniform. Darling, Sir Elton's going to be really pleased with you... The box around the heads of some performers in a particular dance sequence was supposed to represent Singaporeans? Oh, can't think out of the box because the box is outside our heads. The giant dolls were so absolutely passe I don't know what to say.
5. Insipid song arrangements. Ok, granted you don't want a karaoke sing-along, but NDP is one major karaoke session. People come in and sing "Stand Up for Singapore" whether they are in their living room or with in some Geylang bedroom. They want to reaffirm that "We are Singapore", whether or not you welcome foreign talent. Just give them the green card (Permanent Resident). The want the world to know that Singapore is their "Home" truly, whether or not they have enough rice to eat during the price hike earlier this year. What they got was a mish mash of poorly thought through medley. It's like doing all the moves of the kama sutra without contact. In all honestly, it will not even to arouse the warmest blooded of Singaporeans. How to sing-along liddat?
6. Badly thought out trasitions. One main complaint is that some transitions were politically charged. MM Lee, SM Goh, and PM Lee have become the mainstay of any NDP when you need to convey a point that you are afraid would be lost because of the subtlety. So, you go the opposite direction. Puh-leeze. And then you've got no-namers doing talk and chat. This is so 2000. No doubt, the organizing group came from the same place that did NDP 2000, I'd expect more polish and quality.
Other transitions between chapters and within chapters are also odd and forgettable. In fact, most of the 10 chapters are forgettable. What's there to remember? And why was the need for 10 chapters when some chapters were merely of a few waifs "geleking"?
7. Someone please explain the Pledge moment? Why must it be at 8.22 pm? If I had known Sheng Siong Supermarket was going to participate in this event, I'd walk in, pick 5 kg of live prawns and wait at the door. Come 8.22 pm, I'm going home with my new pets. What purpose can saying the Pledge serve in the middle of my dinner? Make me more patriotic? Eh, my food is turning cold you know? (Of course, there is nothing tackier than hearing someone talk about how the 1968 parade was rained out and it went on despite them shivering in the rain. Looks like global warming has done something good for those who are afraid of the cold.) The prelude to the pledge moment stank: "You know the words... Say what you mean... Mean what you say..." were in my books so domineering. But hey, this is my "Home", "My Singapore", and I must "Stand Up for Singapore." (Eh, how come no reaction?)
8. Limp fireworks. Perhaps we can start using more ingenious but fewer fireworks. The savings can be given out in our GST rebates. I don't think our finance minister will be too happy looking at how money disbursed is burnt in the air rather than, say, giving the parade goers another bun or drink in the fun pack.
Honourable mentions (good things)
1. The parade formed up really late this time. This is a good plan because the medics will have fewer people to cart out.
2. No giant cake moment. Imagine how tacky this is if a giant cake were to be driven to the middle of the floating platform and then when it breaks open, pole dancers begin their routine. Mmm....
In all, the parade showed how a 44 year old woman should not be... saggy (slow tempo), naggy (10 chapters), gawdily dressed, over-blinged (fireworks and other senseless additions), attention seeking and proselytizing.
People will have views of how a parade should be done and of course, views will differ and they may or may not agree with how things go. But as far as I am concerned, I sense a gulf, a detachment, a removal from NDP 2009. Never have I felt that confused to be Singaporean.
The media folks have been led round and round to the concept of the Singapore Story in 10 Chapters. That's the problem. The hang-up now becomes 10 chapters, not whether if we do need 10 chapters or if there could be a better way to project a new-story. Not new story. New-story, a politically-correct reinvention and retelling of the factually correct boring tale of history? Like old lamps for new? Ok, now you get it.
NDP 2009 took on too much on its shoulders. To think the country is 44 and the entire parade tried to tell so many things at one go. Imagine with Singapore is 440! Then what? Does NDP 2405 begin on 8 Jul till 9 Aug? C'mon. Think carefully, select properly.
The segment which showcased how a terrorist attack would cripple Singapore was hilarious. Cheryl Fox came on Channel Faux News Asia and began announcing that there is an attack on Singapore. Blah blah blah. And the NDP organisers did not have good sense to have a running subtitle showing "NDP 2009" across the stage. If, indeed, terrorist trained illegal immigrants floated using NTUC plastic bags filled with plastic explosives infiltrated Singapore at the same time and bombed the living daylights out of Changi, no one would have believed if the emergency news bulletin came on.
And funnier still. There was a side bar showing that Singapore traded at over 4 dollars to the US dollar. Is that the sign of the fiscal policies that we are adopting to stay viable? Depreciate the Sing Dollar till the Americans will send Seagate back to set up another factory because we are now only a third as expensive? And our poor Yusuf Ishaks didn't bounce back after the terror attacks were foiled. So... what's the difference whether or not there is an attack?
One hilarity was the cold fireworks on the tail on the terrorist sea scooter. Do we really think that in this day and age, anyone wishing to knock out our lights are going to use such equipment and flag himself/herself out for all to see?
And then the parade sequence went down quicker than Michael Jackson on barbiturates from that point. I've completely lost interest and couldn't wait for Singapore Idol - see, I'm still damned patriotic, right? - to come on. (Of course, falling asleep while watching idol is another story.)
Some of the less inspiring moments of the parade:
1. Poor lighting. I still cannot understand how MediaCorp lighting folks could allow things such as yellow light on red costumes, white light on white canvas to happen. They much have done the equivalent of at least 100 NDPs. I know, since each NDP is preceded by at least 5 rehearsals. Unforgiveable.
2. Senseless commentary. Anyone trying to figure out what the Channel 5 folks were commenting would probably be so lost the parade lost its entire meaning. 'nuff said.
3. Badly focused camera angles. I don't think we even knew who was the officer in commanding for the ceremonial 21 gun salute. I saw poorly composed pictures on my screens. I'm never able to see the full picture of what is going on. Otherwise, when I see the full picture, nothing is going on. Or maybe, nothing is really going on.
4. Gawdy or inappropriate costumes. One of the second lieutenants bearing a colours flag is probably off to some 80s hijink after that; he was wearing white bell bottoms for his uniform. Darling, Sir Elton's going to be really pleased with you... The box around the heads of some performers in a particular dance sequence was supposed to represent Singaporeans? Oh, can't think out of the box because the box is outside our heads. The giant dolls were so absolutely passe I don't know what to say.
5. Insipid song arrangements. Ok, granted you don't want a karaoke sing-along, but NDP is one major karaoke session. People come in and sing "Stand Up for Singapore" whether they are in their living room or with in some Geylang bedroom. They want to reaffirm that "We are Singapore", whether or not you welcome foreign talent. Just give them the green card (Permanent Resident). The want the world to know that Singapore is their "Home" truly, whether or not they have enough rice to eat during the price hike earlier this year. What they got was a mish mash of poorly thought through medley. It's like doing all the moves of the kama sutra without contact. In all honestly, it will not even to arouse the warmest blooded of Singaporeans. How to sing-along liddat?
6. Badly thought out trasitions. One main complaint is that some transitions were politically charged. MM Lee, SM Goh, and PM Lee have become the mainstay of any NDP when you need to convey a point that you are afraid would be lost because of the subtlety. So, you go the opposite direction. Puh-leeze. And then you've got no-namers doing talk and chat. This is so 2000. No doubt, the organizing group came from the same place that did NDP 2000, I'd expect more polish and quality.
Other transitions between chapters and within chapters are also odd and forgettable. In fact, most of the 10 chapters are forgettable. What's there to remember? And why was the need for 10 chapters when some chapters were merely of a few waifs "geleking"?
7. Someone please explain the Pledge moment? Why must it be at 8.22 pm? If I had known Sheng Siong Supermarket was going to participate in this event, I'd walk in, pick 5 kg of live prawns and wait at the door. Come 8.22 pm, I'm going home with my new pets. What purpose can saying the Pledge serve in the middle of my dinner? Make me more patriotic? Eh, my food is turning cold you know? (Of course, there is nothing tackier than hearing someone talk about how the 1968 parade was rained out and it went on despite them shivering in the rain. Looks like global warming has done something good for those who are afraid of the cold.) The prelude to the pledge moment stank: "You know the words... Say what you mean... Mean what you say..." were in my books so domineering. But hey, this is my "Home", "My Singapore", and I must "Stand Up for Singapore." (Eh, how come no reaction?)
8. Limp fireworks. Perhaps we can start using more ingenious but fewer fireworks. The savings can be given out in our GST rebates. I don't think our finance minister will be too happy looking at how money disbursed is burnt in the air rather than, say, giving the parade goers another bun or drink in the fun pack.
Honourable mentions (good things)
1. The parade formed up really late this time. This is a good plan because the medics will have fewer people to cart out.
2. No giant cake moment. Imagine how tacky this is if a giant cake were to be driven to the middle of the floating platform and then when it breaks open, pole dancers begin their routine. Mmm....
In all, the parade showed how a 44 year old woman should not be... saggy (slow tempo), naggy (10 chapters), gawdily dressed, over-blinged (fireworks and other senseless additions), attention seeking and proselytizing.
People will have views of how a parade should be done and of course, views will differ and they may or may not agree with how things go. But as far as I am concerned, I sense a gulf, a detachment, a removal from NDP 2009. Never have I felt that confused to be Singaporean.
Sunday, August 09, 2009
Villa Lethargia
It's like checking into some warped kind of Hotel California and then, like HoCal, never get to get out of it ever again.
Villa Lethargia has been my humble abode for the past fortnight. While I didn't get past the jetlag when I was in the US, I couldn't get over the jetlag after I come home.
I drift off to sleep at 8 pm and wake up at 9 pm, and then I only go back to bed at 2 am and wake up at 5 am. This has been the sleeping pattern for too long. And then, recently, I'm falling asleep at 10.30 pm but waking up at 5 am. The only consolation is I'm getting more sleep.
I just want to get things going but there is generally no interest to get anything going. University term begins in a week and I'm still reviewing my materials. In the past, I would have gotten them worked out already. Really, I blame it more on the course coordinator who cannot get a good grasp of the course sequence than my long term residence in VilLeth, but hey, I'll blame anyone for my misery (or lack of) at this moment.
I'm bitching about the blogger and the stuff are still not back up. I'm generally dissatisfied with this nonsense and I wish I there is a smarter way of solving my problems.
To sate my muffin craving, I have resorted to making my own muffins. Still experimenting but fewer hits than misses so far. I need more practice. The bin is well fed. Argh. I should get off now. Need to check the cake I'm baking now. Too lazy to fill muffin cups, so I use a cake tin directly. Hope this pineapple muffin turns out ok.
I'm back to watching new TV series. Nurse Jackie and Royal Pains are good. I'm an addict. Villa Lethargia, I love you...
Villa Lethargia has been my humble abode for the past fortnight. While I didn't get past the jetlag when I was in the US, I couldn't get over the jetlag after I come home.
I drift off to sleep at 8 pm and wake up at 9 pm, and then I only go back to bed at 2 am and wake up at 5 am. This has been the sleeping pattern for too long. And then, recently, I'm falling asleep at 10.30 pm but waking up at 5 am. The only consolation is I'm getting more sleep.
I just want to get things going but there is generally no interest to get anything going. University term begins in a week and I'm still reviewing my materials. In the past, I would have gotten them worked out already. Really, I blame it more on the course coordinator who cannot get a good grasp of the course sequence than my long term residence in VilLeth, but hey, I'll blame anyone for my misery (or lack of) at this moment.
I'm bitching about the blogger and the stuff are still not back up. I'm generally dissatisfied with this nonsense and I wish I there is a smarter way of solving my problems.
To sate my muffin craving, I have resorted to making my own muffins. Still experimenting but fewer hits than misses so far. I need more practice. The bin is well fed. Argh. I should get off now. Need to check the cake I'm baking now. Too lazy to fill muffin cups, so I use a cake tin directly. Hope this pineapple muffin turns out ok.
I'm back to watching new TV series. Nurse Jackie and Royal Pains are good. I'm an addict. Villa Lethargia, I love you...
Thursday, August 06, 2009
Such a pain
I woke up early enough to write a blog entry this morning but the usual icons are missing and I can't activate my labels, my post options and whatever not.
I really hate such mornings!
I really hate such mornings!
Chicago Contradictions 3 to 8 of 8
I reckon these will sit on my desktop till kingdom come. So, I'm just going to post it in its draft form. Sometimes, an incomplete piece is also an masterpiece. Think "Unfinished Symphony."
3. Pretty but ugly
Pleasant views reside within the ocular region of the external observer. Or, beauty lies in the eye of the beholder. It is perhaps the high latitude that Chicago is on and the relatively mild summer this year, many plants are in bloom in Chicago. They look lovely, even if they were generally in small patches. The wild flowers and weeds, though, were in full bloom and glory.
And when one compares what nature offers, man-made architecture in Chicago pales in comparison. While Chicago is home to some of the tallest buildings in the US, such as the Sears Tower and the John Hancock Tower, the rest of the buildings are not as spectacular.
Despite being one of the larger cities in the US, Chicago architecture is largely northern European, which is rather functional but boring. Most buildings are built with brick and have flat roofs and large windows. It is perhaps the harsh winters and massive snow storms that require such a construction to ensure that the buildings survive. So when we juxtapose the man-made stuff and nature, one begins to note the kind of beauty that Nature is capable of.
4. Nothing to buy but have things to buy
If you look hard enough
5. Cheap but expensive
11% tourist discount vs 10.25% regular state tax (non-refundable, unlike European VAT)
6. There is a need to eat even if there is no need to eat
Weather, perhaps, makes you hungry the minute meal times arrive. You may have had something big 2 hours before but your brain thinks you’ve digested everything. So you wanna eat again.
7. It blows hot to cold
Hot sun, warm streets, cool breezes, cold rain
8. Safe but not that safe
Don’t feel threatened, cf other major American cities but still there is no end of blaring siren and police vehicles
3. Pretty but ugly
Pleasant views reside within the ocular region of the external observer. Or, beauty lies in the eye of the beholder. It is perhaps the high latitude that Chicago is on and the relatively mild summer this year, many plants are in bloom in Chicago. They look lovely, even if they were generally in small patches. The wild flowers and weeds, though, were in full bloom and glory.
And when one compares what nature offers, man-made architecture in Chicago pales in comparison. While Chicago is home to some of the tallest buildings in the US, such as the Sears Tower and the John Hancock Tower, the rest of the buildings are not as spectacular.
Despite being one of the larger cities in the US, Chicago architecture is largely northern European, which is rather functional but boring. Most buildings are built with brick and have flat roofs and large windows. It is perhaps the harsh winters and massive snow storms that require such a construction to ensure that the buildings survive. So when we juxtapose the man-made stuff and nature, one begins to note the kind of beauty that Nature is capable of.
4. Nothing to buy but have things to buy
If you look hard enough
5. Cheap but expensive
11% tourist discount vs 10.25% regular state tax (non-refundable, unlike European VAT)
6. There is a need to eat even if there is no need to eat
Weather, perhaps, makes you hungry the minute meal times arrive. You may have had something big 2 hours before but your brain thinks you’ve digested everything. So you wanna eat again.
7. It blows hot to cold
Hot sun, warm streets, cool breezes, cold rain
8. Safe but not that safe
Don’t feel threatened, cf other major American cities but still there is no end of blaring siren and police vehicles
Saturday, August 01, 2009
She
She may be the face I can't forget
The trace of pleasure or regret
May be my treasure or the price I have to pay
She ambled along the airplane aisle and began searching for seat 37F. That was the seat beside me and I was certainly not excited about having to be cramped in my little aisle seat in a Boeing 747-400 after losing the space beside me. Being somewhat more generous than I normally am, I looked at her and asked, "37F?"
"Yeah."
"You're here then." I pointed to the seat beside me.
This is my first impression of She. Definitely not a white woman; maybe hispanic, maybe Asian. I'm not too sure. But certainly not a big woman. More Asian, if you ask me to characterise her.
She got past the folks trying to shove their bags into the overhead compartments while I grudgingly removed my safety belt and got up from my seat.
She may be the song that summer sings
May be the chill that autumn brings
May be a hundred different things
Within the measure of a day
She carried her carry on handbag - not exactly a very small one - and then settled into her seat.
"I hope these two seats are empty," said She, pointing to 37D and 37E. "Then we can share the four seats between us."
"I heard the plane is full." I was unusually unhopeful.
"Let's hope," she said.
"We'll know once they say 'Cabin doors closed'," I replied rather nonchalantly.
A chatty one. Dear god, is this a joke? It's going to be 19 hours of... I think I'll go along. Anyway, there is nothing more exciting that disturbing that bitch sitting in front of me.
She may be the beauty or the beast
May be the famine or the feast
May turn each day into a heaven or a hell
She may be the mirror of my dreams
The smile reflected in a stream
She may not be what she may seem
Inside her shell
We got the four seats and she happily moved to 37E, leaving a seat between us. There was distance for comfort and proximity for noisy conversation.
"My name is She," she introduced herself. (For her privacy, I oughtn't name her.)
"I am He," I said.
"I'm from Florida," said She. "I'm flying home to Jakarta. I'm going home for the first time after I married to America."
"Yeah, right, Miss Saigon," I cynically thought. Maybe I should ask her how she fished the rich husband. Instead, my politically correct civil servant persona kicked in. "Oh, Florida. I heard it's a nice place. And wow! It must be a pain flying all the way to Jakarta."
"I started at Fort Lauradale," said she. And she began regaling me with her travails since she began her journey in Florida, including how she had to run from terminal to terminal to make the flight. An earlier thunderstorm in the New York/New Jersey area apparently caused airports to shut down for about 2 hours and planes were backlogged.
"My journey actually started at noon, when I had to check out from the hotel," I countered, not wishing to seem that I was in any better shape. Oddly, it was as though I was trying to find an excuse for bad behaviour.
The flight took off and we had our meals, we napped, we chatted and she told me her lifestory somewhat.
She was not as bad as I had thought. Oddly, her generosity was amazing. She was a "sharer", a "giver" of sorts.
"I live in a big house in Florida. 5 rooms... 4000 over square feet," She proudly announced, right after telling me - a complete stranger less than 30 minutes ago - that I should visit her in Florida and stay at her place when I visit.
And then she started showing me digital photographs off her digital camera of her palace. I vaguely recall the house has a pinkish exterior and it looks huge.
"My husband and I used to live in an even larger house. One acre...," She reminisced as she began describing her heaven. "But he lost everything. You know Madoff?"
I'd be damned if I know not of Madoff.
"He invested all his life savings, our retirement money, millions, with him. He lost everything. You know, he has nothing now."
She described how he invested with Madoff because of "insider ties" and how all these promises of a worry-free retirement were dashed when Madoff was exposed as a fraud. And I thought I would never meet someone to be swimming in Madoff's circles.
I thought I saw tears shimmering in her eyes but She was so strong.
She who always seems so happy in a crowd
Whose eyes can be so private and so proud
No one's allowed to see them when they cry
She may be the love that cannot hope to last
May come to me from shadows of the past
That I'll remember till the day I die
"You know, he went crazy when she died. His friends all said that he married someone really beautiful, but now, he is married to someone who is really good for him."
She talked of how she entered his life after he lost his first wife to cancer. He lost the plot and was womanising and drinking his life away. She came in and turned him back to his home and his family. Her step children are grateful to her role in bringing the family back together again. She gained their acceptance through sheer grit and determination.
Such strength of character need not be said. These are private traits that an outsider looking in must discern and appreciate. And who knows what it took her to uproot herself from Indonesia to marry an Italian-American 8 years ago and live in the US. And worse, inherit a ready family, when at 40, she was somewhat past her productive years.
She asked me to guess her age. Ladies, never ask me to do that, because I'm damned good at that. If you wanna feel good about yourself, don't ask. I told her, 40s? She said I was very good and said she was 48. I politely told her I would have guessed 42. A white lie, but it probably made her day.
Then she half-bitterly and half-proudly said she is a stepmother of a few children and a grandmother of a few (I think 4) kids. The Chinese use taste to describe certain feelings and perhaps, only she would know the exact taste of that pride.
Her strength of character lay not just in how she gave up her job with a multi-national company to become a stay home wife who cooks daily for her husband and have dinner parties ever so often for her friends and family. "You know, I always include his dead wife's mother every time. She's 82 and we look after her." I think this says it all.
Our conversation went on for many hours, albeit intermittently. She gave me her recipes for southern Italian cooking while I told her where to eat when she visits Singapore. We exchanged contacts and we had a really fun time together. I promised to visit her sometime soon.
And from her, one can tell that her 62 year old husband is fully appreciative of her. Perhaps no one better than him will appreciate the closing stanza of his second life that he has decided to spend with this wonderful woman.
She may be the reason I survive
The why and wherefore I'm alive
The one I'll care for through the rough in ready years
Me, I'll take her laughter and her tears
And make them all my souvenirs
For where she goes I've got to be
The meaning of my life is she
She, oh she
My blessings to them.
The trace of pleasure or regret
May be my treasure or the price I have to pay
She ambled along the airplane aisle and began searching for seat 37F. That was the seat beside me and I was certainly not excited about having to be cramped in my little aisle seat in a Boeing 747-400 after losing the space beside me. Being somewhat more generous than I normally am, I looked at her and asked, "37F?"
"Yeah."
"You're here then." I pointed to the seat beside me.
This is my first impression of She. Definitely not a white woman; maybe hispanic, maybe Asian. I'm not too sure. But certainly not a big woman. More Asian, if you ask me to characterise her.
She got past the folks trying to shove their bags into the overhead compartments while I grudgingly removed my safety belt and got up from my seat.
She may be the song that summer sings
May be the chill that autumn brings
May be a hundred different things
Within the measure of a day
She carried her carry on handbag - not exactly a very small one - and then settled into her seat.
"I hope these two seats are empty," said She, pointing to 37D and 37E. "Then we can share the four seats between us."
"I heard the plane is full." I was unusually unhopeful.
"Let's hope," she said.
"We'll know once they say 'Cabin doors closed'," I replied rather nonchalantly.
A chatty one. Dear god, is this a joke? It's going to be 19 hours of... I think I'll go along. Anyway, there is nothing more exciting that disturbing that bitch sitting in front of me.
She may be the beauty or the beast
May be the famine or the feast
May turn each day into a heaven or a hell
She may be the mirror of my dreams
The smile reflected in a stream
She may not be what she may seem
Inside her shell
We got the four seats and she happily moved to 37E, leaving a seat between us. There was distance for comfort and proximity for noisy conversation.
"My name is She," she introduced herself. (For her privacy, I oughtn't name her.)
"I am He," I said.
"I'm from Florida," said She. "I'm flying home to Jakarta. I'm going home for the first time after I married to America."
"Yeah, right, Miss Saigon," I cynically thought. Maybe I should ask her how she fished the rich husband. Instead, my politically correct civil servant persona kicked in. "Oh, Florida. I heard it's a nice place. And wow! It must be a pain flying all the way to Jakarta."
"I started at Fort Lauradale," said she. And she began regaling me with her travails since she began her journey in Florida, including how she had to run from terminal to terminal to make the flight. An earlier thunderstorm in the New York/New Jersey area apparently caused airports to shut down for about 2 hours and planes were backlogged.
"My journey actually started at noon, when I had to check out from the hotel," I countered, not wishing to seem that I was in any better shape. Oddly, it was as though I was trying to find an excuse for bad behaviour.
The flight took off and we had our meals, we napped, we chatted and she told me her lifestory somewhat.
She was not as bad as I had thought. Oddly, her generosity was amazing. She was a "sharer", a "giver" of sorts.
"I live in a big house in Florida. 5 rooms... 4000 over square feet," She proudly announced, right after telling me - a complete stranger less than 30 minutes ago - that I should visit her in Florida and stay at her place when I visit.
And then she started showing me digital photographs off her digital camera of her palace. I vaguely recall the house has a pinkish exterior and it looks huge.
"My husband and I used to live in an even larger house. One acre...," She reminisced as she began describing her heaven. "But he lost everything. You know Madoff?"
I'd be damned if I know not of Madoff.
"He invested all his life savings, our retirement money, millions, with him. He lost everything. You know, he has nothing now."
She described how he invested with Madoff because of "insider ties" and how all these promises of a worry-free retirement were dashed when Madoff was exposed as a fraud. And I thought I would never meet someone to be swimming in Madoff's circles.
I thought I saw tears shimmering in her eyes but She was so strong.
She who always seems so happy in a crowd
Whose eyes can be so private and so proud
No one's allowed to see them when they cry
She may be the love that cannot hope to last
May come to me from shadows of the past
That I'll remember till the day I die
"You know, he went crazy when she died. His friends all said that he married someone really beautiful, but now, he is married to someone who is really good for him."
She talked of how she entered his life after he lost his first wife to cancer. He lost the plot and was womanising and drinking his life away. She came in and turned him back to his home and his family. Her step children are grateful to her role in bringing the family back together again. She gained their acceptance through sheer grit and determination.
Such strength of character need not be said. These are private traits that an outsider looking in must discern and appreciate. And who knows what it took her to uproot herself from Indonesia to marry an Italian-American 8 years ago and live in the US. And worse, inherit a ready family, when at 40, she was somewhat past her productive years.
She asked me to guess her age. Ladies, never ask me to do that, because I'm damned good at that. If you wanna feel good about yourself, don't ask. I told her, 40s? She said I was very good and said she was 48. I politely told her I would have guessed 42. A white lie, but it probably made her day.
Then she half-bitterly and half-proudly said she is a stepmother of a few children and a grandmother of a few (I think 4) kids. The Chinese use taste to describe certain feelings and perhaps, only she would know the exact taste of that pride.
Her strength of character lay not just in how she gave up her job with a multi-national company to become a stay home wife who cooks daily for her husband and have dinner parties ever so often for her friends and family. "You know, I always include his dead wife's mother every time. She's 82 and we look after her." I think this says it all.
Our conversation went on for many hours, albeit intermittently. She gave me her recipes for southern Italian cooking while I told her where to eat when she visits Singapore. We exchanged contacts and we had a really fun time together. I promised to visit her sometime soon.
And from her, one can tell that her 62 year old husband is fully appreciative of her. Perhaps no one better than him will appreciate the closing stanza of his second life that he has decided to spend with this wonderful woman.
She may be the reason I survive
The why and wherefore I'm alive
The one I'll care for through the rough in ready years
Me, I'll take her laughter and her tears
And make them all my souvenirs
For where she goes I've got to be
The meaning of my life is she
She, oh she
My blessings to them.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
If you want to die in debt...
This is the unsolicited perspective of an outsider looking in. I will accept your views on the matters but I am not necessarily able or willing to discuss all of them.
One thing that strikes me as rather peculiar to the US is the extensive use of credit cards. Almost every facility in the US accepts credit. People pay for parking with their credit cards, they pay for metro card top-ups, train tickets, small item dispensers, shopping... Just about anything can be paid for by credit cards.
It is a pretty worrying trend, if you ask me. Few people are good at keeping their finances in shipshape. Most people tend to squander their money away, swiping their cards at their purchases thinking that they are able to well-afford the service or the item when they don't.
I paid for most of my shopping with cash this time around. I reckon there was no point keeping dollars any raking up a card bill. So what if there were frequent flyer points given for the expenses? With the economy that bad, the airline is cutting back on capacity. What happens then is that you've got the points but they hell have no free seats.
The worst of the financial storm seems to have passed. But my US friends and I share the common perception that the current fiasco was resolved in a way that it felt more like a blimp in the larger scheme of things - giving the impression that this was a one-off anomaly - than a deep puddle of shit, which requires new sanitation lines and facilities to handle.
We agreed that the rut should be allowed to last a year or two, let the market really and truly correct itself, let the perpetrators go off with punishment bruises to remind them to behave, and let the people have time to reflect on their own actions.
Just last night, when the ad nauseum airing of the first series episodes of Boston Legal ended on hotel TV, paid commercials came on. Among them was for a real estate auction for housing properties in the northeastern regions. Man, I could afford those houses if the other buyers do not bid me out of my range. And they look like pretty nice houses too. Even better, the auction company is helping buyers pre-qualify for bank loans. Er...
Immediately today, I saw a news claiming that the housing market seems to have turned a corner because prices have fallen far enough.This is a self-fulfilling prophesy game that some powers that be are playing. And if people fall for the housing trap again...
One thing that strikes me as rather peculiar to the US is the extensive use of credit cards. Almost every facility in the US accepts credit. People pay for parking with their credit cards, they pay for metro card top-ups, train tickets, small item dispensers, shopping... Just about anything can be paid for by credit cards.
It is a pretty worrying trend, if you ask me. Few people are good at keeping their finances in shipshape. Most people tend to squander their money away, swiping their cards at their purchases thinking that they are able to well-afford the service or the item when they don't.
I paid for most of my shopping with cash this time around. I reckon there was no point keeping dollars any raking up a card bill. So what if there were frequent flyer points given for the expenses? With the economy that bad, the airline is cutting back on capacity. What happens then is that you've got the points but they hell have no free seats.
The worst of the financial storm seems to have passed. But my US friends and I share the common perception that the current fiasco was resolved in a way that it felt more like a blimp in the larger scheme of things - giving the impression that this was a one-off anomaly - than a deep puddle of shit, which requires new sanitation lines and facilities to handle.
We agreed that the rut should be allowed to last a year or two, let the market really and truly correct itself, let the perpetrators go off with punishment bruises to remind them to behave, and let the people have time to reflect on their own actions.
Just last night, when the ad nauseum airing of the first series episodes of Boston Legal ended on hotel TV, paid commercials came on. Among them was for a real estate auction for housing properties in the northeastern regions. Man, I could afford those houses if the other buyers do not bid me out of my range. And they look like pretty nice houses too. Even better, the auction company is helping buyers pre-qualify for bank loans. Er...
Immediately today, I saw a news claiming that the housing market seems to have turned a corner because prices have fallen far enough.This is a self-fulfilling prophesy game that some powers that be are playing. And if people fall for the housing trap again...
Temptations
New York City seems recession-proof. Macy's NYC has hardly anything on sale, unlike the other Macy's in Chicago and in Washington DC. And the NYC staff are so high and mighty about us tourists. Elsewhere, I've got sales associates coming up to ask me if I needed help with my shopping, over in NYC, they simply pretend you do not exist. I guess this is the beauty of it all - big city, big crowds, no attention.
I picked up about 3 items in Macy's yesterday and as I walked, I junked one, put back another and left a Timberland shirt on the CK counter. I then made my way down to the household department for some shopping.
Martha Stewart has a grand collection in turquoise (whoever knows and can describe the colour better than me, please correct me; I'm only good at colours of chemical ions). The prices turn me turqoise. I also found the kitchen rasp that many a cook on Asian Food Channel (e.g. Anna Orson, Robert Rainford) use but the rasps are the wrong size and the wrong price. Should have picked up the rasps when I first went grocery shopping with my "brother" in New Jersey.
And if you think about the lack of discounts - DC Macy's extended their additional 25% discount to me in the men's department, allowing me to buy $28 shirts at 50% plus 50% plus additional 25% off. I only paid $5.25 for each shirt. Furthermore, if you visit the US and shop, here's some info: State tax for Chicago is 10.25%, Washington DC is 5.25% and New York is 8.375%. That means, after your spoils are tallied up, the tax is slapped on the total. Before you know it...
I was saying, I would have cleaned out Macy's DC if I had bought a larger luggage bag by then. Trust me, I would have filled it up with lots of shopping items. Alas, I didn't have a bag yet and lugging another full bag isn't something that my shoulders might be able to take, I suppose.
I digress but my main point was that I left Macy's NYC empty handed. It is a first in US shopping history that I left a clothing store without a single item!
Earlier in the day, I was at Century 21 - New York's best kept secret - at WTC. It was like going to shopping mecca for another pilgrimage. I was early; I arrived at 9.15 am and the temperature was showing a nice 77 F. This is the earliest I have set off for the entire trip, actually.
There was a very thin crowd in C21 initially and so I thought I'll find a luggage bag before I did my clothing shopping. When I got my bag about an hour later - man, choosing a luggage bag is such a bitch - I went up to men's and was rudely welcomed by a thronging crowd of men in varying levels of dressedness, women pushing men around to get their hands on men's clothes and children running around. OMG.
It was a mad mad world out there and I began picking up what I wanted. I tried to get a cashier to hold my luggage while I shopped but he refused, saying that he had no space. This was not what happened the last time I visited. Oh well. What the *beep*.
I started browsing and if one looks hard enough, like in Chicago, one can find pretty good items at incredible prices. I typically don't like shopping unless it is for grocery but if I don't put in the effort to shop here, then I absolutely can't find anything in Singapore that does not cost an arm and a-leg-and-a-half. So I patiently trudged through the store, combing it many times...
Hey! I found a USD11.99 Tommy Hilfiger chinois slacks in Navy. It costs nearly USD70 more if not on sale. How can one not grab it, even if there is no fitting room? I pulled the waist around my neck and there is some slack. I think it'll fit. USD11.99 won't be enough to pay for the cloth even!
I piled on more men's underwear and then made the fundamental mistake of a male shopper. I did not buy a few items I liked because I thought Macy's had them on sale. And Macy's didn't. At least not when I was there.
So, I sit here wondering if I should make another trip down to C21 to pick them up, since it's only 9 am now and my check out is not till 3 hours later. A trip to C21 will at most take an hour and a half, assuming I instil military discipline on myself. Oh, forget it. I should just sit here and chill. I don't even know if I would wear them pyjamas pants if I bought them.
Another item that was really exciting to have is the single shot expresso machine. It's going at US90 at Macy's but then a new problem cropped up. You see, the US has a 2 pieces of luggage rule. Each piece can weigh up to 50 lb (or 23 kg)and I have two pieces. The expresso machine does not weigh much but it certainly is bulky. It is not likely to make it into my bag, and I do not want to risk paying USD125 for excess baggage. People will suggest that I unpack the entire machine... yeah right. It's a one piece thingy that is spring loaded and all. The last thing I want is to bring back something damaged.
Shopping here is fun and there are temptations galore. Many Americans probably do not know how good their lives have been. Yet, there are times when regardless of the temptations, a rational shopper will never be tempted. And I for once managed to be that rational shopper.
I picked up about 3 items in Macy's yesterday and as I walked, I junked one, put back another and left a Timberland shirt on the CK counter. I then made my way down to the household department for some shopping.
Martha Stewart has a grand collection in turquoise (whoever knows and can describe the colour better than me, please correct me; I'm only good at colours of chemical ions). The prices turn me turqoise. I also found the kitchen rasp that many a cook on Asian Food Channel (e.g. Anna Orson, Robert Rainford) use but the rasps are the wrong size and the wrong price. Should have picked up the rasps when I first went grocery shopping with my "brother" in New Jersey.
And if you think about the lack of discounts - DC Macy's extended their additional 25% discount to me in the men's department, allowing me to buy $28 shirts at 50% plus 50% plus additional 25% off. I only paid $5.25 for each shirt. Furthermore, if you visit the US and shop, here's some info: State tax for Chicago is 10.25%, Washington DC is 5.25% and New York is 8.375%. That means, after your spoils are tallied up, the tax is slapped on the total. Before you know it...
I was saying, I would have cleaned out Macy's DC if I had bought a larger luggage bag by then. Trust me, I would have filled it up with lots of shopping items. Alas, I didn't have a bag yet and lugging another full bag isn't something that my shoulders might be able to take, I suppose.
I digress but my main point was that I left Macy's NYC empty handed. It is a first in US shopping history that I left a clothing store without a single item!
Earlier in the day, I was at Century 21 - New York's best kept secret - at WTC. It was like going to shopping mecca for another pilgrimage. I was early; I arrived at 9.15 am and the temperature was showing a nice 77 F. This is the earliest I have set off for the entire trip, actually.
There was a very thin crowd in C21 initially and so I thought I'll find a luggage bag before I did my clothing shopping. When I got my bag about an hour later - man, choosing a luggage bag is such a bitch - I went up to men's and was rudely welcomed by a thronging crowd of men in varying levels of dressedness, women pushing men around to get their hands on men's clothes and children running around. OMG.
It was a mad mad world out there and I began picking up what I wanted. I tried to get a cashier to hold my luggage while I shopped but he refused, saying that he had no space. This was not what happened the last time I visited. Oh well. What the *beep*.
I started browsing and if one looks hard enough, like in Chicago, one can find pretty good items at incredible prices. I typically don't like shopping unless it is for grocery but if I don't put in the effort to shop here, then I absolutely can't find anything in Singapore that does not cost an arm and a-leg-and-a-half. So I patiently trudged through the store, combing it many times...
Hey! I found a USD11.99 Tommy Hilfiger chinois slacks in Navy. It costs nearly USD70 more if not on sale. How can one not grab it, even if there is no fitting room? I pulled the waist around my neck and there is some slack. I think it'll fit. USD11.99 won't be enough to pay for the cloth even!
I piled on more men's underwear and then made the fundamental mistake of a male shopper. I did not buy a few items I liked because I thought Macy's had them on sale. And Macy's didn't. At least not when I was there.
So, I sit here wondering if I should make another trip down to C21 to pick them up, since it's only 9 am now and my check out is not till 3 hours later. A trip to C21 will at most take an hour and a half, assuming I instil military discipline on myself. Oh, forget it. I should just sit here and chill. I don't even know if I would wear them pyjamas pants if I bought them.
Another item that was really exciting to have is the single shot expresso machine. It's going at US90 at Macy's but then a new problem cropped up. You see, the US has a 2 pieces of luggage rule. Each piece can weigh up to 50 lb (or 23 kg)and I have two pieces. The expresso machine does not weigh much but it certainly is bulky. It is not likely to make it into my bag, and I do not want to risk paying USD125 for excess baggage. People will suggest that I unpack the entire machine... yeah right. It's a one piece thingy that is spring loaded and all. The last thing I want is to bring back something damaged.
Shopping here is fun and there are temptations galore. Many Americans probably do not know how good their lives have been. Yet, there are times when regardless of the temptations, a rational shopper will never be tempted. And I for once managed to be that rational shopper.
Tardy Updates
I know there are still many entries missing and I do intend to make up for them in time to come.
But today's quick update is this: Last week, I thought the US trip will never end. Today, I wish it will never end. Argh!
But today's quick update is this: Last week, I thought the US trip will never end. Today, I wish it will never end. Argh!
Monday, July 27, 2009
Chicago Contradictions 2 of 8
2. New but old; old but new
Like many cities in a perpetual state of renewal and transition, Chicago is also a mishmash of old and new. The thing about it is the new is not new and the old is not old. For instance, some train stations are being refurbished and parts of it look new whereas other parts of the same station look really old. The train tracks are mainly supported by metal I-bars and the trains run on metal tracks mostly laid on wood. Again, depending on where you are, old and new is quite telling.
In an earlier blogpost, I complained that the airport needed a freshening up. Surprisingly, as I leave for DC today, I noticed that the departure area was pretty, new and modern. Again, a contradiction within the same building. Downtown buildings are another study of contrast, though this observation would be rather moot.
One thing about older, refurbished hotel rooms is the fact that while the place can look new, unless something thorough is done, certain things like smells cannot be removed. My hotel room toilet smells of a “old sweaty ah pek.” It is quite sad that things look new but are so old.
Like many cities in a perpetual state of renewal and transition, Chicago is also a mishmash of old and new. The thing about it is the new is not new and the old is not old. For instance, some train stations are being refurbished and parts of it look new whereas other parts of the same station look really old. The train tracks are mainly supported by metal I-bars and the trains run on metal tracks mostly laid on wood. Again, depending on where you are, old and new is quite telling.
In an earlier blogpost, I complained that the airport needed a freshening up. Surprisingly, as I leave for DC today, I noticed that the departure area was pretty, new and modern. Again, a contradiction within the same building. Downtown buildings are another study of contrast, though this observation would be rather moot.
One thing about older, refurbished hotel rooms is the fact that while the place can look new, unless something thorough is done, certain things like smells cannot be removed. My hotel room toilet smells of a “old sweaty ah pek.” It is quite sad that things look new but are so old.
Chicago Contradictions 1 of 8
The clock on the huge direction panel in the Chicago O’Hare Airport reads 6:42. I am way too early for my 9:05 flight to Washington DC. Still, being stuck in the airport to wait a little of your life away sure beats sweating in the shuttle and cursing as the darned van you are in simply cannot move in the lattice structure called a gridlock, except in Brownian motion speeds. Being stuck like is would be considered a “happy problem”, as an ex-boss would call it. Contradictory? Yeah, but that has how my experience in Chicago has been.
1. Enabled but not enabling
Chicago has a well thought out, rather comprehensive transport network. The city and its surrounding areas are served by the Metro, the Metra (I suspect it was named as a pun because it supplements the Metro to the more outlying areas), buses and taxis. Car hire, both chauffeured and self-drive, are available.
One thing in particular caught my eye about the Metro stations. Like with many major US cities, their main city airport(s) and train stations are Metro-enabled. The Metro or its equivalent in that city serves the airport and the Amtrak station. In this regard, one would expect the transport planners to cater to travellers who have large bags. But no! Many stations do not have either elevators or escalators. In fact, when I collected a train ticket from the Chicago Union Station, the nearest metro station, Quinsy/Wells, did not have any! I saw poor passengers lugging their bags and trying to get down from the platform to street level on the treacherously narrow steps.
Another key feature of the Chicago Transit Authority Metro system is the need for extensive transfers. The purple line, which I use, only loops in the downtown during peak hours. All other times, one has to transfer to a red line and then to any other line, depending on where they need to go. A direct journey is pretty unheard of. And for a tourist like me, constant map reading is necessary to figure out at which station I should be alighting.
Another joke is the advertising pamphlets that major shops along Michigan Avenue, aka the Magnificent Mile, give out tourists. Unfortunately, attractive as some of the bargains might be, the maps are bereft of any supplementary transport information such as metre stations to help tourists get there. In the Singapore way of asking, how to get business liddat?
I had already known that Chicago was going to be “Bus 11” intensive. Bootedharleydude told me as such. But little did I expect that Chicago would also be a city suitable for aspiring mountain climbers. After you walk up and down umpteenth flights of stairs, you’ll understand what I mean.
This city that worked hard to enable convenient transport options must now look to enabling effective transport means. And that would pave the way to their 2016 Olympic bid.
1. Enabled but not enabling
Chicago has a well thought out, rather comprehensive transport network. The city and its surrounding areas are served by the Metro, the Metra (I suspect it was named as a pun because it supplements the Metro to the more outlying areas), buses and taxis. Car hire, both chauffeured and self-drive, are available.
One thing in particular caught my eye about the Metro stations. Like with many major US cities, their main city airport(s) and train stations are Metro-enabled. The Metro or its equivalent in that city serves the airport and the Amtrak station. In this regard, one would expect the transport planners to cater to travellers who have large bags. But no! Many stations do not have either elevators or escalators. In fact, when I collected a train ticket from the Chicago Union Station, the nearest metro station, Quinsy/Wells, did not have any! I saw poor passengers lugging their bags and trying to get down from the platform to street level on the treacherously narrow steps.
Another key feature of the Chicago Transit Authority Metro system is the need for extensive transfers. The purple line, which I use, only loops in the downtown during peak hours. All other times, one has to transfer to a red line and then to any other line, depending on where they need to go. A direct journey is pretty unheard of. And for a tourist like me, constant map reading is necessary to figure out at which station I should be alighting.
Another joke is the advertising pamphlets that major shops along Michigan Avenue, aka the Magnificent Mile, give out tourists. Unfortunately, attractive as some of the bargains might be, the maps are bereft of any supplementary transport information such as metre stations to help tourists get there. In the Singapore way of asking, how to get business liddat?
I had already known that Chicago was going to be “Bus 11” intensive. Bootedharleydude told me as such. But little did I expect that Chicago would also be a city suitable for aspiring mountain climbers. After you walk up and down umpteenth flights of stairs, you’ll understand what I mean.
This city that worked hard to enable convenient transport options must now look to enabling effective transport means. And that would pave the way to their 2016 Olympic bid.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
I give up!
I finally succumbed to my spoilt, bureaucratic ways yesterday.
After lugging my bags and taking public transport faithfully from the start of the journey to the end of my Philadephia leg, my bags probably travelled on more pavements and tarred roads than they had on all their trips past added together.
I hear them whine as their rubber-bare wheels are tortured by the gravel and the uneven roads. I see them shed whatever they have left of their rubber protection as they attempt to navigate the relative potholes that I didn't pay enough attention to. The poor baggies are faithful travel companions. They moan and groan and attract a helluva lot of attention in the hotel lobbies when I arrive - you could hear the wheels roar at the top of their voices to announce my arrival. But they have never complained.
I feel my arms aching and my left shoulder is in pain whenever I take on the weight of my carry on bags. I didn't pack a lot. A usual official work trip during my past civil servant days would see me lug around the same amounts of stuff - at least - but with a difference. On official duty, you can book private transport to ferry you from point to point. On your way in to the country, you only need to drag your luggage as much as from inside the airport at the baggage claim area to outside the airport to the waiting transport, from outside to inside the hotel check in desk, and then to your room. Reverse the baggie movemenets on your way out of the countries. And in between hotel, skip anything involving the airport.
It is not that I miss my good ol' civil servant days but, at PHL, I decided that I cannot survive another round of dragging bags from baggage claim to the Chicago Transit Authority (CTA) metro station and then change 4 trains to get to Davis, Evanston, and then drag the bags and walk a couple of blocks to get to the hotel. The hotel is only 15 miles from the hotel but the CTA tracks require me to go downtown first and then change trains to move north, taking about 22 or 27 miles in all. Crazy...
At that moment, I decided that paying USD50 for cab fare each way may not be that bad a proposition after all. But is there something more worthwhile?
As luck would have it, GO! Airport Express at ORD provided the answer. I managed to get a return booking for USD57. As I waited in line, I actually see local Chicago folks queueing for the same service, instead of taking the trains or the cabs, despite not having much to carry. I think I must be doing something right.
My transport arrived 15 minutes after I booked it. My American-Jordanian driver and I chatted when the traffic was not that heavy. My bags are comfotably seated in the boot of the vehicle and gently let off at the door of the hotel. The trip is 35 minutes (despite the traffic jam - Chicago is ramping up its infrastructure for its 2016 Olympics bid) - and 15 miles. Although the CTA would have cost USD2.25 each way, I face the prospect of a 90 to 118 minute trip (depending on how (un)lucky you are with the train schedules) and the need to make 3 transfers between lines.
Honestly, costly as it might have been, I have never found a more justifiable way of blowing away money than taking the transfer.
After lugging my bags and taking public transport faithfully from the start of the journey to the end of my Philadephia leg, my bags probably travelled on more pavements and tarred roads than they had on all their trips past added together.
I hear them whine as their rubber-bare wheels are tortured by the gravel and the uneven roads. I see them shed whatever they have left of their rubber protection as they attempt to navigate the relative potholes that I didn't pay enough attention to. The poor baggies are faithful travel companions. They moan and groan and attract a helluva lot of attention in the hotel lobbies when I arrive - you could hear the wheels roar at the top of their voices to announce my arrival. But they have never complained.
I feel my arms aching and my left shoulder is in pain whenever I take on the weight of my carry on bags. I didn't pack a lot. A usual official work trip during my past civil servant days would see me lug around the same amounts of stuff - at least - but with a difference. On official duty, you can book private transport to ferry you from point to point. On your way in to the country, you only need to drag your luggage as much as from inside the airport at the baggage claim area to outside the airport to the waiting transport, from outside to inside the hotel check in desk, and then to your room. Reverse the baggie movemenets on your way out of the countries. And in between hotel, skip anything involving the airport.
It is not that I miss my good ol' civil servant days but, at PHL, I decided that I cannot survive another round of dragging bags from baggage claim to the Chicago Transit Authority (CTA) metro station and then change 4 trains to get to Davis, Evanston, and then drag the bags and walk a couple of blocks to get to the hotel. The hotel is only 15 miles from the hotel but the CTA tracks require me to go downtown first and then change trains to move north, taking about 22 or 27 miles in all. Crazy...
At that moment, I decided that paying USD50 for cab fare each way may not be that bad a proposition after all. But is there something more worthwhile?
As luck would have it, GO! Airport Express at ORD provided the answer. I managed to get a return booking for USD57. As I waited in line, I actually see local Chicago folks queueing for the same service, instead of taking the trains or the cabs, despite not having much to carry. I think I must be doing something right.
My transport arrived 15 minutes after I booked it. My American-Jordanian driver and I chatted when the traffic was not that heavy. My bags are comfotably seated in the boot of the vehicle and gently let off at the door of the hotel. The trip is 35 minutes (despite the traffic jam - Chicago is ramping up its infrastructure for its 2016 Olympics bid) - and 15 miles. Although the CTA would have cost USD2.25 each way, I face the prospect of a 90 to 118 minute trip (depending on how (un)lucky you are with the train schedules) and the need to make 3 transfers between lines.
Honestly, costly as it might have been, I have never found a more justifiable way of blowing away money than taking the transfer.
City Hopping - Snap shots
I.
Philadelphia International Airport (PHL) looks amazingly fresh despite its age. The internal refurbishment work is really well done. The airport is bright and welcoming. I think Singaporeans should really learn from people around the world when they rethink comfort and modernisation. The Singapore Airport folks are doing the same by constantly refurbishing and upgrading its interior, while keeping the external walls and facade largely unscathed. However, while the Americans and the Europeans tear down the insides of buildings and give them new leases of life, Singaporeans tend to demolish the entire building and rebuild something new in its place. I am not saying that either way is superior but evaulate the merits of these cases. Resources are finite and if you don't have to destroy a building with architectural value, then why do it?
My only gripe is with security. Perhaps it is now time to come clean and admit to the people that liquid explosives are not exactly potent enough to bring down a plane. I mean, if we want to be purist about things, then why am I disallowed to bring water in but allowed to buy bottles of mineral water in the secure area?
II.
The UA flight to Chicago arrived 30 minutes late in Philadelphia today. After the passengers were deplaned, Chicago-bound passengers, including me, boarded. As we got on, we were repeatedly told to stow our cabin bags under the seat in front of us if they fit. The overhead compartments are for people with roller bags which take up too much space.
We were reminded that if we do not cooperate, leftover bags that cannot be fit in the overhead compartments will need to be checked in and the flight would be further delayed. Some passengers cursed UA, for it is its charging of check baggage that forced passengers to attempt to carry on everything. So there was a perpetual ding-dong about where the bags should go. I checked in two bags but I was lucky - Frequent Flyers with Silver (or Gold) membership need not pay.
I just feel that such "cost recovery" or "cost limiting/cutting" measures are limited in their effectiveness. But till someone with the power to change things has the foresight to know what's the problem and have the guts to change the policy, nothing positive can be expected from anyone.
III.
The United Airlines Flight arrived 30 minutes late today and took off at 1314 h instead of the scheduled 1238 h. Once in the air, the pilot went at maximum speed. The last time I was in a speeding aircraft travelling at such speeds that the cabin was filled entirely with the roar of the engine was on an Yichang - Chengdu flight in China. I guess it is only in domestic sectors that pilots can pull off such a stunt. There is probably the only air craft in the air at that moment on such a route at such a flight level. Any other traffic would probably only come in as the flight nears the destination airport.
It was pretty interesting to hear the pilot go, "Ladies and gentlemen, this is the pilot speaking. I've turned off the seat belt signs but I would urge you to keep them on as we are going as fast as we can to make up the lost time. We expect to arrive at 1.55 pm, meaning there is no delay on the flight. Connections will be fine." We finally made it to the gate at 1404h. To chop 30 minutes off a scheduled 2:17 flight means...
IV.
Chicago O'Hare Airport (ORD) is HUGE. Ginormous - a rather American portmanteau that is ugly to the core, at least in my opinion. Still, it could possibly describe ORD. It seems larger than PHL but it is also very much more run-down. I guess it cannot be helped. ORD and PHL are two of the world's busiest airports in terms of number of flight and passengers handled. But I believe users would want to see a refreshed ORD soon. After all, airport upgrading is the in-thing at this moment and such infrastructural work can help create jobs, direct governmental spending to more worthwhile causes and improve surroundings...
Philadelphia International Airport (PHL) looks amazingly fresh despite its age. The internal refurbishment work is really well done. The airport is bright and welcoming. I think Singaporeans should really learn from people around the world when they rethink comfort and modernisation. The Singapore Airport folks are doing the same by constantly refurbishing and upgrading its interior, while keeping the external walls and facade largely unscathed. However, while the Americans and the Europeans tear down the insides of buildings and give them new leases of life, Singaporeans tend to demolish the entire building and rebuild something new in its place. I am not saying that either way is superior but evaulate the merits of these cases. Resources are finite and if you don't have to destroy a building with architectural value, then why do it?
My only gripe is with security. Perhaps it is now time to come clean and admit to the people that liquid explosives are not exactly potent enough to bring down a plane. I mean, if we want to be purist about things, then why am I disallowed to bring water in but allowed to buy bottles of mineral water in the secure area?
II.
The UA flight to Chicago arrived 30 minutes late in Philadelphia today. After the passengers were deplaned, Chicago-bound passengers, including me, boarded. As we got on, we were repeatedly told to stow our cabin bags under the seat in front of us if they fit. The overhead compartments are for people with roller bags which take up too much space.
We were reminded that if we do not cooperate, leftover bags that cannot be fit in the overhead compartments will need to be checked in and the flight would be further delayed. Some passengers cursed UA, for it is its charging of check baggage that forced passengers to attempt to carry on everything. So there was a perpetual ding-dong about where the bags should go. I checked in two bags but I was lucky - Frequent Flyers with Silver (or Gold) membership need not pay.
I just feel that such "cost recovery" or "cost limiting/cutting" measures are limited in their effectiveness. But till someone with the power to change things has the foresight to know what's the problem and have the guts to change the policy, nothing positive can be expected from anyone.
III.
The United Airlines Flight arrived 30 minutes late today and took off at 1314 h instead of the scheduled 1238 h. Once in the air, the pilot went at maximum speed. The last time I was in a speeding aircraft travelling at such speeds that the cabin was filled entirely with the roar of the engine was on an Yichang - Chengdu flight in China. I guess it is only in domestic sectors that pilots can pull off such a stunt. There is probably the only air craft in the air at that moment on such a route at such a flight level. Any other traffic would probably only come in as the flight nears the destination airport.
It was pretty interesting to hear the pilot go, "Ladies and gentlemen, this is the pilot speaking. I've turned off the seat belt signs but I would urge you to keep them on as we are going as fast as we can to make up the lost time. We expect to arrive at 1.55 pm, meaning there is no delay on the flight. Connections will be fine." We finally made it to the gate at 1404h. To chop 30 minutes off a scheduled 2:17 flight means...
IV.
Chicago O'Hare Airport (ORD) is HUGE. Ginormous - a rather American portmanteau that is ugly to the core, at least in my opinion. Still, it could possibly describe ORD. It seems larger than PHL but it is also very much more run-down. I guess it cannot be helped. ORD and PHL are two of the world's busiest airports in terms of number of flight and passengers handled. But I believe users would want to see a refreshed ORD soon. After all, airport upgrading is the in-thing at this moment and such infrastructural work can help create jobs, direct governmental spending to more worthwhile causes and improve surroundings...
Bagel on Fire
The Microtel at the Philadelphia Airport offers breakfast for its guests and so this morning, I didn't have to buy breakfast before hand. Furthermore, taking the 12.38 pm flight out of Philadelphia to O'Hare meant I could sleep in a little. Throw in the free airport shuttle offered by the hotel and one has the makings of a great day ahead.
So, breakfast it is. To cut the long story short, after I took my cup of coffee and cranberry and orange juice, I picked up a bagel and toasted it. I was supposed to cut the bagel in half but the bagel seemed to be partially cut into two already. I could not separate the top half from the bottom half and so I dumped the entire bread into the toaster. You know, the kind that has a belt to bring in the bread to be toasted and then dumps it on a tray after that.
My bagel got caught on its way in and I smelt something burning. As I peered into the toaster, I see my poor bagel caught at the opening of the toaster - there was not enough headroom for Mr Bagel to pass through and he is on fire.
I took the tongs and dug out whatever I could from the toaster before the fire alarm is activated.
Such an exciting start to a morning.
So, breakfast it is. To cut the long story short, after I took my cup of coffee and cranberry and orange juice, I picked up a bagel and toasted it. I was supposed to cut the bagel in half but the bagel seemed to be partially cut into two already. I could not separate the top half from the bottom half and so I dumped the entire bread into the toaster. You know, the kind that has a belt to bring in the bread to be toasted and then dumps it on a tray after that.
My bagel got caught on its way in and I smelt something burning. As I peered into the toaster, I see my poor bagel caught at the opening of the toaster - there was not enough headroom for Mr Bagel to pass through and he is on fire.
I took the tongs and dug out whatever I could from the toaster before the fire alarm is activated.
Such an exciting start to a morning.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)