People have been asking about my trip to Miami, so I’ll lay it out for you. Miami was about the same as last year, only more so. Let me explain.
Cell phones. I usually enjoy driving in Miami – it’s not nearly as stressful as driving in Singapore. But this year I’d have to call it about even. The reason is cell phone related. It appears that Miami cars will not move unless the driver is talking on the cell. You see a guy creeping along with half a mile of space between him and the car in front and as you pass him and shoot him a dirty look you notice he is on the phone. Everyone in the mall is also on the phone. What the hell are these people talking about all the time? I almost wonder how people were able to function before we all had cell phones.
Traffic. As if driving while yakking on the phone isn’t bad enough, most of the expressways are in their usual state of being under renovation. You drive along and see debris everywhere, the roads lined with earth moving equipment of all sorts, yet you never see any work being done. Maybe they ran out of money. It’s been going on for many years, but this time I noticed signs on the road saying the works would be completed in – get this: 2015. Wanna bet?
Cars. Last year marked the debut of the “new” retro Camaro and Mustang. This year I noticed quite a few new retro Dodge Chargers. I sure hope they don’t bring back the AMC Gremlin.
Bazoombas. It looks like the last few adult women who had not had boob jobs have now had them. Not a single woman over the age of 18 has avoided the knife, and the teen market is rapidly being exploited. This is disturbing on several counts:
1. So many doctors are going into plastic surgery rather than doing something useful with their lives. Don’t they have any qualms about taking a seat in medical school just to give insecure women bazoombas the size of Jay Leno’s head?
2. So many women are willing to look ridiculously fake in a pathetic attempt to feel good about themselves.
3. An entire generation of teenage boys will grow up never knowing the feel of a real breast.
Black leggings. I think I recall seeing one female who wasn’t wearing black leggings. Probably not.
Like I said, it’s all the same, only more so.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Monday, January 3, 2011
Guns "R" Us
One Sunday morning during my extended holiday in Miami I picked up a copy of the Miami Herald. The Sunday edition is quite hefty, though it is light on news. The damn thing is mostly advertising inserts from K-Mart, Walmart, Target, Macy’s, JCPenney, Walgreens, CVS, Staples, and practically every other store in the county.
There was even one from Badass Pro Shops (I have added a couple of letters to disguise the name). What do they sell there – bass? Pros? Bait? This Temple of Testosterone, this Monument to Macho sells everything the modern sportsman could ever want, and quite a bit more. A glance through the insert told me I had to see this place for myself.
I visited an outlet in the Doral area. In the parking lot was the usual array of pickup trucks with bumper stickers proclaiming “When guns are outlawed I will become an outlaw” and other comforting thoughts. Just inside the entrance was a cozy little cafe serving not beef jerky and trail mix but coffee and pastry, just like at your friendly neighbourhood bookstore. Inside it had all kinds of gear for fishing, scuba, hunting, and camping, including rods and reels, guns and knives, ammo galore, clothing for the great outdoors in all its forms, candy, plus a wide selection of boats and trailers and 4x4s. All this and more under one massive roof (though the boats were outside and technically not under the roof). This place would arouse Sarah Palin the way a trip to the jewelry store would excite most normal women.
In the midst of it all was the gigantic “educational aquarium,” which would not have been out of place at Sea World. I think they mean educational in the sense of how lobbyists “educate” politicians on various issues of importance to the public (not to mention themselves), such as, to pick a not exactly random example, the God-given right of everyone to own a gun. Or an entire arsenal.
Then I saw the object that had caught my eye in the ad. It was a Daisy BB gun, just like the ones my elementary school classmates used to shoot birds and squirrels and the occasional window. And it was only $29.99! And they even had some in pink! What is the educational message here?
On my trip back to Singapore we passed through Houston, and I noticed a very small Badass Pro Shop right there in the airport. What luck! I moseyed in and noticed that they sold mostly clothing and small items. I asked the lady who worked there if they sold any guns. She said not at that outlet, in a matter of fact tone that suggested she thought it wouldn’t be unusual to buy guns in a major international airport. I also spotted a Red Head Neck Pillow (you read it right, not a Redneck Head Pillow as you might expect) in a nice camouflage pattern for only $9.88. You wouldn’t want the friggin’ deer to see you napping, would you?
There was even one from Badass Pro Shops (I have added a couple of letters to disguise the name). What do they sell there – bass? Pros? Bait? This Temple of Testosterone, this Monument to Macho sells everything the modern sportsman could ever want, and quite a bit more. A glance through the insert told me I had to see this place for myself.
I visited an outlet in the Doral area. In the parking lot was the usual array of pickup trucks with bumper stickers proclaiming “When guns are outlawed I will become an outlaw” and other comforting thoughts. Just inside the entrance was a cozy little cafe serving not beef jerky and trail mix but coffee and pastry, just like at your friendly neighbourhood bookstore. Inside it had all kinds of gear for fishing, scuba, hunting, and camping, including rods and reels, guns and knives, ammo galore, clothing for the great outdoors in all its forms, candy, plus a wide selection of boats and trailers and 4x4s. All this and more under one massive roof (though the boats were outside and technically not under the roof). This place would arouse Sarah Palin the way a trip to the jewelry store would excite most normal women.
In the midst of it all was the gigantic “educational aquarium,” which would not have been out of place at Sea World. I think they mean educational in the sense of how lobbyists “educate” politicians on various issues of importance to the public (not to mention themselves), such as, to pick a not exactly random example, the God-given right of everyone to own a gun. Or an entire arsenal.
Then I saw the object that had caught my eye in the ad. It was a Daisy BB gun, just like the ones my elementary school classmates used to shoot birds and squirrels and the occasional window. And it was only $29.99! And they even had some in pink! What is the educational message here?
On my trip back to Singapore we passed through Houston, and I noticed a very small Badass Pro Shop right there in the airport. What luck! I moseyed in and noticed that they sold mostly clothing and small items. I asked the lady who worked there if they sold any guns. She said not at that outlet, in a matter of fact tone that suggested she thought it wouldn’t be unusual to buy guns in a major international airport. I also spotted a Red Head Neck Pillow (you read it right, not a Redneck Head Pillow as you might expect) in a nice camouflage pattern for only $9.88. You wouldn’t want the friggin’ deer to see you napping, would you?
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
WikiLeaks
This whole WikiLeaks thing reads like a James Bond plot. Julian Assange looks like a typical James Bond villain, and even his name sounds like it came straight from Ian Fleming’s pen. A brilliant hacker and maladjusted man of mystery with a checkered past, he is a hero to some and a scourge to many. His plot is not to steal gold or an advanced weapon and use extortion or blackmail to dominate the world. It is to use the modern day version of wealth in the form of information, possibly to bring down governments.
One expects to see 007 chasing him down the Swiss Alps on skis, with machine gun bullets kicking up snow all around him. Then, back at the chalet, a brief encounter and some witty repartee before one escapes from the other. Assange does not live in a fantastic hideout beneath the sea, but his whereabouts are never known. Maybe he does live in a fantastic hideout beneath the sea, with hundreds of soldiers prepared to do his bidding and die for him.
So when it was announced that he has turned himself in, I was sceptical. It seems too easy. It’s also taxing to keep up with the latest accounts of this story, an example of truth being stranger than fiction. I think I’ll just wait for the movie to come out.
One expects to see 007 chasing him down the Swiss Alps on skis, with machine gun bullets kicking up snow all around him. Then, back at the chalet, a brief encounter and some witty repartee before one escapes from the other. Assange does not live in a fantastic hideout beneath the sea, but his whereabouts are never known. Maybe he does live in a fantastic hideout beneath the sea, with hundreds of soldiers prepared to do his bidding and die for him.
So when it was announced that he has turned himself in, I was sceptical. It seems too easy. It’s also taxing to keep up with the latest accounts of this story, an example of truth being stranger than fiction. I think I’ll just wait for the movie to come out.
Monday, December 6, 2010
Thanksgiving Day
We recently celebrated Thanksgiving, a day when I especially miss home. In Miami we would have the extended family gather for a huge meal of roast turkey and stuffing, mashed potatoes, vegetables, apple pie and other desserts, and football on TV and in the street. My Singaporean Thanksgiving usually features a roast chicken in place of its larger cousin, stuffing, and apple pie if we can find one, and that’s about it. This year’s meal was even less. I had a massive buffet lunch (one of the perks turned occupational hazards of being a trainer) and had little room for dinner, so we had chicken rice, with chilli instead of cranberry sauce. If I ever get less traditional than that I could not in good conscience even call it Thanksgiving.
In the US nearly every radio station plays “Alice’s Restaurant” at least once on Thanksgiving Day, and never on any other occasion. This is an 18-plus minute song/story performed by folk singer Arlo Guthrie, whose folk singer father, Woody Guthrie, is best known for another American folk standard, “This Land is Your Land.” “Alice’s Restaurant” is about a memorable Thanksgiving when Arlo and his pal helped their friend Alice dump some garbage and got arrested for littering. Some time later, at the neighborhood draft office (this being during the Vietnam War, or as the Vietnamese call it, the American War), Arlo found himself deemed unfit to serve in the army and shoot people because of his littering conviction. It’s impossible to capture the flavor of the song in a paragraph, but the curious reader is directed to Youtube.
This Thanksgiving I decided to make “Alice’s Restaurant” part of our family tradition. After our chicken rice, I fired up the computer and played the video for Cherisse. She found it boring, so we tried Woody’s version of “This Land is Your Land.” Cherisse found this boring too, so we tried the Bruce Springsteen version. Same result. I guess she’s just not ready for it, so I’ll try again in a year or two.
However, I did tell her the story and its significance. “Alice’s Restaurant” has become an anthem of certain important American values, namely civil disobedience, questioning authority, independent thinking, and standing up against injustice. However, these are not particularly Singaporean values. Cherisse is pretty good with the traditional Chinese values such as “calling ah mah,” which means she has to say “ah mah” whenever she greets her grandmother. It is absolutely essential to do this, and considered extremely unfilial not to. A big hug, a kiss, a handshake – no other form of greeting no matter how warm can replace the mandatory (even if perfunctory and robotic) uttering of “ah mah.” So I want to make sure her American values are similarly inculcated. In my mind, the substance of “Alice’s Restaurant” is more important than the form of the bird being gobbled.
In the US nearly every radio station plays “Alice’s Restaurant” at least once on Thanksgiving Day, and never on any other occasion. This is an 18-plus minute song/story performed by folk singer Arlo Guthrie, whose folk singer father, Woody Guthrie, is best known for another American folk standard, “This Land is Your Land.” “Alice’s Restaurant” is about a memorable Thanksgiving when Arlo and his pal helped their friend Alice dump some garbage and got arrested for littering. Some time later, at the neighborhood draft office (this being during the Vietnam War, or as the Vietnamese call it, the American War), Arlo found himself deemed unfit to serve in the army and shoot people because of his littering conviction. It’s impossible to capture the flavor of the song in a paragraph, but the curious reader is directed to Youtube.
This Thanksgiving I decided to make “Alice’s Restaurant” part of our family tradition. After our chicken rice, I fired up the computer and played the video for Cherisse. She found it boring, so we tried Woody’s version of “This Land is Your Land.” Cherisse found this boring too, so we tried the Bruce Springsteen version. Same result. I guess she’s just not ready for it, so I’ll try again in a year or two.
However, I did tell her the story and its significance. “Alice’s Restaurant” has become an anthem of certain important American values, namely civil disobedience, questioning authority, independent thinking, and standing up against injustice. However, these are not particularly Singaporean values. Cherisse is pretty good with the traditional Chinese values such as “calling ah mah,” which means she has to say “ah mah” whenever she greets her grandmother. It is absolutely essential to do this, and considered extremely unfilial not to. A big hug, a kiss, a handshake – no other form of greeting no matter how warm can replace the mandatory (even if perfunctory and robotic) uttering of “ah mah.” So I want to make sure her American values are similarly inculcated. In my mind, the substance of “Alice’s Restaurant” is more important than the form of the bird being gobbled.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Teach critical thinking in Singapore schools
I have long felt there is a huge need in Singapore for more critical thinking. In all fairness, there is a need for this everywhere. But I can’t count how many times I have read of local people falling for the ‘magic stone’ scam, having sex with witch doctors to rid themselves of demons, and various other scams. Peddlers of slimming pills and weight loss spas of dubious – make that zero – value are making money hand over fist. Even bogus schools open, overcharge students, and disappear with alarming frequency.
The Sunday Times (known as the Straits Times the other six days of the week) had a beauty of an article about the alkaline and ionized water business. Buried in the middle of the article are comments by a local doctor noting that medical benefits of these types of water have never been recorded in any “reputable or scientific medical journal.” But one chap claims that his gout is not as severe after drinking two litres of alkaline water a day for five months. The guy didn’t say how much (or little) water he used to drink. My guess is the benefit is due to drinking large quantities of water (plain or otherwise) and/or psychology (believing is seeing).
A housewife has been drinking the stuff for five years and has not noticed any health benefits, but continues drinking it because she has become used to the taste and texture! What a compelling testimonial. But hey, maybe she is a Nobel Prize winning chemist – the article didn’t say she wasn’t!
An unidentified consumer claims alkaline water is “easier to swallow.” What kind of water did she drink before – ice?
After reading comments like these, I think alkaline water just might cause brain damage!
The piece concludes with one doctor who refers to a study showing positive health benefits. This doc, it so happens, sells alkaline water at his clinic. The reader can put two and two together.
Man in the street testimonials are OK for movies and restaurants, but for matters of science and medicine we should stick to impartial and knowledgeable authorities.
If anyone knows the identity of that ice swallowing genius, please refer her to me. I have a fabulous magic stone I’d like to sell her.
The Sunday Times (known as the Straits Times the other six days of the week) had a beauty of an article about the alkaline and ionized water business. Buried in the middle of the article are comments by a local doctor noting that medical benefits of these types of water have never been recorded in any “reputable or scientific medical journal.” But one chap claims that his gout is not as severe after drinking two litres of alkaline water a day for five months. The guy didn’t say how much (or little) water he used to drink. My guess is the benefit is due to drinking large quantities of water (plain or otherwise) and/or psychology (believing is seeing).
A housewife has been drinking the stuff for five years and has not noticed any health benefits, but continues drinking it because she has become used to the taste and texture! What a compelling testimonial. But hey, maybe she is a Nobel Prize winning chemist – the article didn’t say she wasn’t!
An unidentified consumer claims alkaline water is “easier to swallow.” What kind of water did she drink before – ice?
After reading comments like these, I think alkaline water just might cause brain damage!
The piece concludes with one doctor who refers to a study showing positive health benefits. This doc, it so happens, sells alkaline water at his clinic. The reader can put two and two together.
Man in the street testimonials are OK for movies and restaurants, but for matters of science and medicine we should stick to impartial and knowledgeable authorities.
If anyone knows the identity of that ice swallowing genius, please refer her to me. I have a fabulous magic stone I’d like to sell her.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Celebrity doings
The news is full of celebrity activity today. There’s the possible sale of the Beatles’ music on iTunes. Sounds good in theory, but I’d rather have the Sgt. Pepper cover to look at while listening. And some money-grubbing scum suckers have released a posthumous Michael Jackson album, which promises to be a good way to make millions selling substandard work.
Speaking of substandard work, James Blunt is in the news. He’s the guy who had a hit featuring these memorable lyrics: “You're beautiful. You're beautiful. You're beautiful, it's true.” Snore. Cole Porter must be spinning in his grave. Fortunately, it isn’t music putting him in the news, but his claim that he prevented World War III. My, aren’t we important? That bizarre statement ranks with Al Gore’s alleged claim that he invented the internet.
Finally, Christina Aguilera got her very own star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, joining the ranks of the greatest actors in history. What has she acted in, you wonder? Me too! It says she is in a movie opening in a few days—her very first movie! This must be a guaranteed blockbuster, for her to be so honoured before the public ever sees her on the big screen.
Oh, yeah, there was also news of this British guy who said some bad things in a book he wrote and will be spending some time in prison, but you don’t expect me to comment on that, do you? I haven’t read the book, and I don’t think I’ll find it in the shops, so what can I possibly say. I won’t be seeing Christina’s movie, or buying “Michael’s” new album, or any of James Blunt’s albums, either. But I would vote for Al Gore (again). Or Cole Porter.
Speaking of substandard work, James Blunt is in the news. He’s the guy who had a hit featuring these memorable lyrics: “You're beautiful. You're beautiful. You're beautiful, it's true.” Snore. Cole Porter must be spinning in his grave. Fortunately, it isn’t music putting him in the news, but his claim that he prevented World War III. My, aren’t we important? That bizarre statement ranks with Al Gore’s alleged claim that he invented the internet.
Finally, Christina Aguilera got her very own star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, joining the ranks of the greatest actors in history. What has she acted in, you wonder? Me too! It says she is in a movie opening in a few days—her very first movie! This must be a guaranteed blockbuster, for her to be so honoured before the public ever sees her on the big screen.
Oh, yeah, there was also news of this British guy who said some bad things in a book he wrote and will be spending some time in prison, but you don’t expect me to comment on that, do you? I haven’t read the book, and I don’t think I’ll find it in the shops, so what can I possibly say. I won’t be seeing Christina’s movie, or buying “Michael’s” new album, or any of James Blunt’s albums, either. But I would vote for Al Gore (again). Or Cole Porter.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Pompeii exhibit at National Museum
We had a family outing at the museum to see the Pompeii exhibit. On display were a number of casts made of the original victims of the eruption of Mt Vesuvius in 79AD. It made me glad I am nowhere near Mt Merapi, currently spewing its guts out in Indonesia. I hope those villagers can run fast. There were also statues, jewelry, household items, and remnants of frescoes and mosaics from the ill-fated Roman town.
In order to appreciate these exhibits, you had to catch glimpses from behind walls of people taking photos. With flash not permitted in the gallery, how good could these photos be? Why not just buy a book if you feel you must see pictures of these items again? To me, taking photos detracts from the enjoyment of the experience.
Aside from Pompeii, there were four galleries with exhibits devoted to aspects of Singapore life. One featured clothing, and few people were in there. Perhaps this reflects the level of attention most heartlanders pay to their clothes. The gallery on local TV was deserted, and judging from the poor quality of contemporary local offerings I can only imagine how uninspiring past programming must have been. The third gallery was dedicated to photography; it too was empty, no doubt because all the photography buffs were crowding around all the other exhibits in the museum. The fourth gallery was by far the most crowded—what could the attraction be? It was all about—you guessed it—food! People were taking pictures of old coconut scrapers, noodle bowls, tea canisters, and other “museum pieces” that are still found in many Singaporean homes!
Museums are usually considered repositories of history, but they are also exhibits of contemporary life.
In order to appreciate these exhibits, you had to catch glimpses from behind walls of people taking photos. With flash not permitted in the gallery, how good could these photos be? Why not just buy a book if you feel you must see pictures of these items again? To me, taking photos detracts from the enjoyment of the experience.
Aside from Pompeii, there were four galleries with exhibits devoted to aspects of Singapore life. One featured clothing, and few people were in there. Perhaps this reflects the level of attention most heartlanders pay to their clothes. The gallery on local TV was deserted, and judging from the poor quality of contemporary local offerings I can only imagine how uninspiring past programming must have been. The third gallery was dedicated to photography; it too was empty, no doubt because all the photography buffs were crowding around all the other exhibits in the museum. The fourth gallery was by far the most crowded—what could the attraction be? It was all about—you guessed it—food! People were taking pictures of old coconut scrapers, noodle bowls, tea canisters, and other “museum pieces” that are still found in many Singaporean homes!
Museums are usually considered repositories of history, but they are also exhibits of contemporary life.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
