Back in Miami

I arrived in the US with the wife and kid for our annual pilgrimage. As no airplane ever made has the fuel capacity for such a long trip we had to stop in Tokyo and Houston. Narita airport is the same as always—white-gloved security personnel, clean restrooms, and glassed-in designated smoking areas filled with Japanese men barely visible through the haze. Looking into one of them reminds me of looking at a fishbowl in desperate need of a change of water.

The Houston airport was another story. With Christmas approaching, there was a small stage with a karaoke machine where travelers could sing Christmas carols with a country and western twang. Most of the singing was done by airport personnel, who were apparently unaware of what all the travelers knew: that singing should be left to the professionals.

But the most painful part of the Houston stopover was seeing Sarah Palin’s book prominently displayed in front of every bookshop and newsstand. As a writer, I can’t tell you how much that hurt. But Houstonians sure do love their guns, Bibles, and oil wells, so I can see the connection. On the plus side, I doubt they are avid readers.

At long last we made it to Miami. During the taxi ride out of the airport I noticed that the expressways are still in their usual state of perpetual construction. And why not? Large public works projects are an ideal source of graft, and Miami politicians are the most greedy and corrupt on the planet. However, I won’t make the mistake of calling them whores. The last time I did that I had to apologize. To the whores.

A trip to Dadeland Mall gave a good picture of the local inhabitants. The plastic surgeons continue to do a booming business, as one is hard pressed to find a woman whose bust has not been surgically augmented. There seems to be a pervasive sense of self-absorption.

Even the men are caught up in it, and in themselves. There is a shop called The Art of Shaving, which sells high-end shaving stuff. You can also get a shave there for $35. I don’t think I spend $35 a year on shaving cream, razor blades, and cologne, and I am a fairly well-groomed guy. Maybe the attraction of the $35 shave lies in the fact that the chair is right in the front window! It must be appealing for some guys to know people are thinking, “Hey, who’s the big shot who can afford to drop north of one grand a month to be shaved in public?” Of course, other people are thinking, “Hey, who’s the self-absorbed asshole who feels the need to have people see him getting a $35 shave?”

Obesity continues to run (or shuffle along, wheezing) amok. The mall has lots of stuffed chairs scattered around for people to rest their weary bones and gargantuan frames. (You won’t find these chairs in Singapore malls, until they find a way to charge you for sitting.) I even saw a TV commercial for The Scooter Store. Imagine a store that sells only electric scooters to propel people through the mall and around their homes! And at the risk of offending a few disabled folks who truly need these vehicles, I suspect most of the people who buy these things just need to eat much less and exercise now and then. But why bother, when you can get a machine to lug your fat ass around? [Cue the music: “In the year 2525….”]

So after a few days, here is my one sentence impression of Miami. A bunch of overweight people driving massive SUVs to the mall, with phones clamped to the sides of their heads.

This is a view of Miami I don’t get in Singapore. It explains a lot. No wonder Palin is topping the charts.

Maid in the Shade

We’re getting ready for a new addition to our household. No, the missus isn’t expecting. But with Cherisse beginning primary school in January (which is half day, rather than full day like her pre-school) we will need someone at home to look after her. So we’re getting a domestic helper, commonly called a maid.

The maid agents in Singapore really know their stuff. They have data sheets on all the candidates. Most of the comments look suspiciously similar, often identical. They all love children, they all cook fried rice and their native dishes and are willing to learn Chinese and Western recipes, etc. There is even a photo, so the ma’am can decide whether to risk frightening her children or losing her husband. In fact, there is nearly everything you could ever want to know about the gal, and a good bit that you might not.

For example, the maid’s religion is noted. You can’t have some other God being worshipped in your home, could you? Some employers don’t want their maid praying five times a day—they’re paying her to work work work! And the maid’s skin tone is also indicated—either fair, tan, or dark. I have no idea why this should matter, but apparently plenty of Singaporeans are concerned about this or it wouldn’t be included on the form. If I were a maid I would resent this mightily. (You might sense that I resent this even though I am not a maid.)

But on the positive side, it’s better for your employer to be aware of your skin tone before you take out a four-figure loan to make the trip, so as to avoid being sent back for being the wrong color.

Branding Mania

It's no secret that Singaporeans are brand crazy. But the government is also big on branding. The Singapore Tourism Board just unveiled their new mascot for the 2010 World Expo in Shanghai. It is a Teletubby-looking creature with a durian spiked head and a red outfit depicting a merlion. I always thought a mascot should be naturally self explanatory rather than contrived, but perhaps they should be congratulated for their restraint in not having the legend "Singapore Mascot" emblazoned on the figure.

I'm not sure why Singapore needs a mascot for their country pavilion at the Expo. I can see where the host would have one, but imagine a separate mascot for every exhibiting country running around the grounds!

According to the Straits Times, the Singapore Pavilion also has a logo of its own! I would think a sign reading "Singapore Pavilion" with the Singapore flag would be good enough to identify it.

The Land Transport Authority recently began using a set of five musical notes in conjunction with its traffic updates on the radio. Why do they need those annoying tones? To distinguish them from other transport agencies or traffic update providers? Just keeping the traffic flowing smoothly is enough, as far as I'm concerned.

Usually I try to mute the radio before the traffic report's sponsor, King Koil mattresses, plays it's own tone. Doi-oi-oi-oi-oi-oi-oing! This is the most annoying sound I have ever heard, and I respond to it like a dog responds to a vacuum cleaner. I will have to start listening to CDs in the car instead of the radio. Even if it means driving right into a traffic jam.

And to think I pay a car radio tax of about $27 a year for this!

Standing Room Only

Boarded a brand spanking new train on the MRT the other day and noticed that (lucky me!) no one was sitting at the pair of seats in the corner of the carriage, so I went for it. When I got there the mystery was made clear – there were no corner seats! They could not have been torn out, because such vandalism does not occur on these trains. A glimpse at the floor revealed that seats had never been installed there. There was enough open floor space in that car to play a soccer match, if not for the 800 or so people standing shoulder to shoulder. The trend of less seating and more standing continues. By not putting in those two seats they are probably able to cram another four or five people into the car. I’m just waiting for them to figure out how to put in overhead racks to get a few more people in there. If they ever come up with a way to get people up overhead without them falling on the standing room crowd I’m sure they will do it.

While I’m on the subject of standing around, I have long noticed that few public spaces have seating. You might find a few benches in some malls, but not much. The lobbies of office buildings are often barren. I guess they’ve figured out that people don’t spend money when they’re sitting, so the message is to keep walking and buy something.

Book Talk at Kinokuniya Saturday 31 October

I look forward to meeting some folks and selling some books this Saturday at Kinokuniya at Ngee Ann City, Orchard Road between 2.00 and 3.00pm.

I will also discuss some of my wild and wonderful Singapore adventures, and perhaps even venture a few observations and opinions while trying to stay within the OB markers. Any questions from the public will also be entertained (within reason!).

So come on by, you'll have plenty of time to get into your Halloween costume afterwards.

Happy Birthday Uncle! Now Tighten Your Belt!

After living here for ten years, I am reminded that I still have much to learn about Singapore. The headline in today's paper mentions a proposal to end the "widespread practice of cutting the pay of workers when they turn 60." The law allows a cut of up to 10%, and usually employers go to the max.

I had never heard of this practice until now. It seems positively barbaric, especially in a society that otherwise reveres the elderly. I wonder if those over 60 will have their pay raised to what it was when they were 59 years and 364 days old? Will they also get a lump sum to offset their previously reduced earnings?

No doubt the practice will end very soon. One thing I have learned is that when the government proposes something, it usually happens very quickly. I remember a similar headline soon after the collapse of Lehman Brothers, where the government told banks to "do the right thing." Banks immediately began throwing money at almost anyone who claimed to have been misled, and even billionaires were crying that they had been duped.

Paella Singaporeana

I had a hankering for paella, so we found a "Spanish" restaurant on the river. I can tell it was a Spanish restaurant because the name sounded Spanish and the menu was written in Spanish, with English subtitles. But the cooks didn't look Spanish. Nor did the paella, for that matter. There was orange colored rice in a pan with seafood, but no lobster, the chorizo (sausage) tasted strongly of chili powder, and there were triangles of ham arranged like the topping of a Hawaiian pizza. It tasted OK, but not great. Then again, I haven't had paella for a couple of years. At any rate, it wasn't authentic.

The sangria tasted like red wine mixed with Sprite, with no fruit to be seen. It was refreshing, and Cherisse liked it, too.

To add to the latin atmosphere, three amigos performed Spanish standards. One of the guitar players looked vaguely Mexican, but he and his fellow were Malaysian, while the third was from the Philippines.

I should have known better than to expect anything authentic before sitting down in a restaurant on the Singapore River. I have been to several of these riverside restaurants over the years, dishing out all types of cuisine, and have yet to find a really good one. Most are decent, but not great. These places are touristy and are really just selling ambiance rather than good food. If you define "ambiance" as "sweating in the equatorial night while gazing at the water and colored lights."

Well, I'll be in Miami soon and will be buried up to my cabeza in Spanish menus. No doubt I'll find a good paella. No sweat!