My 2nd Twenty-one

When I received my ElderShield letter from the CPF, it took me a while to realise how far I've aged come. That letter was a rude awakening. And when the message finally sank in that I've arrived at the "senior citizen" bracket, I've nothing but curse for the CPF. It's not a pleasant thought. That was two years ago.

There's just no running away from it - this thing called "age". We try to reclaim our youth - by spending our hard-earned money on plastic surgery to make us look good and beautiful like movies stars (I've always wanted to look like Tom Cruise, until he started jumping like a monkey in Oprah Winfrey's show); we dye what used to be our crowning glory black; we go for Botox injection to smoothen our wrinkled skins, but there's nothing we could do from the inside. We realise that something else is missing - stamina. A flight of stairs would leave us panting for breath. We no longer walk with a spring in our step; but found ourselves unable to keep up with the young people in front of us. In short, we become sluggish, and our movement just gets slower. And worse, some of us men found, much to our horror (and probably our wives' too) that we're no longer as firm and hard as we used to be. Now I know why they call it the "mid-life" crisis.

In ten days, I'll be 42, not exactly old or "senior citizen" material, I must add (CPF be damned). In fact, I've read somewhere that if you're between the age of 38-45, you're considered to be at your "prime". Women at this age exude womanly charm feeding the fantasy of most men. And the men would attract bees like nectars with their masculinity and manliness. I'm not sure if there's any truth in this. Whatever it is, save for the Slim Lady, I'm still waiting for the arrival of the bees. Sigh.

It's really not as depressing as I made it out to be. At least I had a free lunch today, courtesy of BAGUS. They are an incredible bunch of fellas, I must tell ya. And all, but one - cheers to that - is older than me, at either 50 or 51. They are a living example that life at the half-century mark needs not be that bad. In fact, it could be as exciting and fulfilling, if not better than some of the younger people I know. VT is a sports fanatic who jogs regularly. Jen is a mahjong enthusiast. That game has been proven to keep the mind alert and young, but young she is not, alert a definite yes! MJM who is three months younger than me, is the hyperactive one among us, very loud and articulate, and likes driving in an out of JB buying grocery for his family. Then of course, there is Victor, the wordsmith who's never short of wit and who celebrates life as much as he is a half celeb-blogger.

The lunch at Prima Revolving Tower was fantastic, not least because it was a birthday treat. The highlight for me was the Beijing Duck. Call me suaku, but this was the first time I ever sampled this dish, my mouth still drooling as I recall the crispy duck skin rolled on a small popiah skin with spring onions.







The Beijing DUCK was good, but we hope our LUCK would be just as good comes Saturday or Sunday. See, it's kinda weird but we kept seeing lots of figure 6 during the course of our lunch. MJM was issued a parking coupon bearing no. 000666 at the restaurant. He also happened to have lent Jen The Omen today. Those who had watched the movie would know the significance of 666 in that movie. What's more coincident was that on my way home from work today, a car in front of me bears the no. SGH 6666 on its number plate. And today's date 29, incidentally, also forms parts of my office telephone number. There are people who do not believe in buying 4-D, but there's just so much coincidence here that we just had to give our luck a try! So we unanimously picked the number 2966, 12 permutation, for the fun of it.

We wait with bated breath.... Huat Ah!!!

Category: Musings

Many ways to skin a cat

I don't know whether to laugh :) or to cry :( My friend Victor actually stayed up till the wee hours of the morning just to write a post about me in his blog.... I'm more than happy to have provided some sort of light entertainment to his otherwise mundane life revolving around the office, his computer, his wife and two kids, not to mention his "healthy" obsession with Annabel Chong and all things sexy.

Yes, I'd admit I have little road sense, but that's because I'm not a veteran driver like him, having got my driving license a couple of years back. In terms of mileage, I'm no where near Victor, who's been driving like forever? And if you've been playing chauffeur to your wife and kids, you're really no different from a cab-driver who are expected to know the roads of Singapore like the back of your hand. And Victor, my dear pal, has already obtained his taxi-license as a possible life-line after he retires from being a consultant in my office. I like a man who thinks far ahead.

But let's come back to this "Lost and Astray Person". You have no idea how exasperating it was to follow a driver who has no hesitation whatsoever to cut lanes just to save a few minutes of his time. He was supposed to be directing me, but there he was, giving my all the wrong signals as he swerved in and out of the lanes.

It's not a big deal to lose our way here in Singapore. The car is at my disposal. If I'm lost, I simply make a U-turn. But there're drivers who are so complacent that they forget that in Singapore, there are actually signs that allow us to make U-turns. Besides, as Dr M, my favorite politician, has said - "In Singapore, there are roads but when shifting into fourth gear, you fall into the sea because it (the country) is not big". See? No problem at all because we are so "small". We'll never get lost in Singapore. Besides, my philosophy when comes to driving - always stick to the roads you know best even if it takes longer, than roads you're unfamiliar with.

Besides, Victor may want to know that there're many ways to skin a cat, as Chun See, a man given to reminiscing about his army days (who you calling topo king, sir?) pointed out to Victor an alternate road to get to my destination.

Did someone say something about "thinking out of the box"?? Victor, you reading?

Contrary to popular belief and Evan might want to take note of this, I don't always aim to win. In this instance, I declare Victor the winner. Just so I could amuse him.

LOL.

Category: Musings

The years(s) of living dangerously....

Chun See was spot on when he mentioned that "our kids are living in a more dangerous world; with more hidden minefields all around". I couldn't agree more. In the past, we parents only worried about our daughters falling prey to sex perverts and predators. But the reality has sunken in, at least to me, that our boys are equally susceptible to such risks.

According to a report in the ST today, more teens are getting Aids and STDs. Last year alone, four boys aged 17-19 tested positive for HIV. They had sex with men. I find this rather troubling, not least because I have two young sons. And it makes me wonder what kind of sex education is being taught to our kids in school. During my time, there was no sex education. My parents, like many others, did not tell us about the birds and the bees. This was probably due to our Asian culture. We were pretty much left to our own "devices" which, in my case comprised mainly books, sometimes trashy ones. Unfortunately, it did not help that these books tended to sensationalise when it came to the act of love. Surely, the situation should have improved by now, and our kids shouldn't be made to suffer the fate of their parents! Or so I thought.

These days, our kids are given education on sex in schools. But why is it so that the number of teens with STDs and Aids has shot up? It makes me wonder what exactly are being taught in schools. Whatever it is, it's clearly not effective. I also wonder, on top of topics like abstinence and various STDs, are our kids taught the existence of "homosexuality" and "lesbianism", topics still considered taboo by many strait-laced Singaporeans? And are the girls (and the boys) taught about the psychological and emotional scares left behind by abortions?

My view is that sex education should also be taught together with topics on the danger of chatting with strangers on-line. I wrote this because I'd read about a case in which a boy was tricked into believing that he was chatting with a girl who was really a middle-age man. He ended up having sex with the man who gave him Aids.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not a homophobe. I've nothing against homosexuals who are basically people just like you and me with a basic need for love, emotionally and physically. But it's the man preying on young boys that got me worried for our kids.

I don't think we should leave the education of sex entirely to the schools. We parents ought to re-enforce the message. Needless to say, I've spoken to Senior Junior about the birds and the bees, the STDs and Aids, and yes, we've even discussed how some people are born with a certain sexual orientation. I guess most parents would feel awkward broaching these topics with their kids. But my sentiment is - better now than sorry later.

Of course, there are other problems facing our kids, who are becoming increasingly savvy in this ever-changing world, but not necessarily wiser. Social problems like the abuse of drug, hooliganism, and anti-social behaviour are real and they may befall our kids if we are not careful.

Category: Family

How evil are you??

This is some kind of a joke. A friend of mine directed me to this website which gauges how evil a man I am. What? Only 34%?? That's just me. My EVIL TWIN would have fared much better, as would Victor, I'm sure. Heh. It's amazing what inane stuff you could find in the internet... There's one that measures how "Malaysian" you are as Victor has shown in one of his posts. And I also came across one that tells you how "gay" you are. Totally insane. Go on, give it a shot if you think you're Evil enough. LOL

You Are 34% Evil

A bit of evil lurks in your heart, but you hide it well. In some ways, you are the most dangerous kind of evil.

How Evil Are You?

Teenage Angst

At 14 years old, Senior Junior is already towering over his old man by almost a head. How fast he grew! He's become more attentive to his appearance, spending what seems look forever in the bathroom combing his hair every morning. Vain is the word. And I've to keep telling him to hurry up or I'd be late for work! And how rebellious he's become! He gets bored easily these days, and is always asking us permission to hang out with his friends after school. If we limit the movement on our kids and impose curfew on them, it's because we parents only have the best interet for our kids. They are at an age most susceptible to peer pressure, and we don't want them to be caught in a situation doing stuff they would regret later in life. I guess we parents in this part of the region tend to me more protective over our kids. And it's not necessary a good thing. Sooner or later, the storks will fly the nest. But I guess it's important to educate them about the danger of mixing with the wrong group of people, or bowing down to peer pressure. Yes, we can't control them, but we could educate them the best we can. There's only so much we could do. The rest is really up to them.

Tell me it's a passing phase. I've been young before (and I'm still YOUNG). But I've never given so much headache to my parents. Never.

Category: Family

Did money grow on trees for these women???

"Move your arse! You lazy cow!"

Ooops... I didn't say that. But a dance instructor by the name of Mirko Saccani certainly did, to the face of a Monica Wong, a 61-year-old successful banker in Hong Kong. If you could recall the news, the latter has agreed to pay the man and his wife, a 15-times world Latin-dancing champion, a jaw-dropping HK$120 million for unlimited private lessons on salsa dancing from 2004 to 2012. She successfully sued the couple for the return of the HK$62 deposit she put down after the relationship with the couple turned sour. It happened when the dance bugger commanded her to "move her arse" and called her a "silly lazy cow" in full view of the public. Of course, he did this while laughing quietly and heartily to the bank. But alas, he foolishly slaughtered the goose that laid the golden eggs. What a silly cow bull.

Hot on the heels of this story is another one on another super-rich woman who has just become the first female ever to travel to space as a tourist. The woman, an engineer who made her fortune in the telecommunication sector, reportedly paid a cool US$25 million to fulfil her dream to travel to space.

Unbelievable. Stories like these never fail to amaze me, and I could only watched dumbfound with jealousy and envy at the incredulous ways the super-rich splurge their money. To me, it's almost obscene, considering the number of mouths these money could feed the hungry in the world. No, I'm not moralising. Of course, it's their money and their prerogatives. The grapes have never tasted so sour! Nope, it's not about the grapes either. I'm just moving kicking my arse for not having known these women earlier!

Category: Musings

The sad story of two bright men ...

Two men. One, a double degree-holder and an Asean scholar. The other, a third and final year student at NUS. Both are obviously intelligent and smart. Their stars were shining, and their future looked almost bright and certain. But both men chose to be on the wrong side of the law.

The former faces a life sentence for having pushed his girlfriend onto an oncoming MRT train. It appeared that the girlfriend, who survived the ordeal, had wanted to break off with him. The latter committed burglary after learning that his father had insufficient CPF money to sponsor his university education. His is a story that could have turned out quite differently and perhaps with a happy note. When he was 15, he got into bad company, became addicted to gambling and went on a burglary spree to feed his habit. Caught and sentenced to seven years jail, the boy took his "O" and "A" level while behind bars, but was released on good behaviour five years later. He got into the university, and life seemed to be doing fine until he realised that he may have to drop out of study because of his father's depleting CPF money.

It's really sad to see these men throwing away their future like that. While not condoning their actions, I feel that these two young men are obviously troubled, perhaps even depressed. The first chap was said to be depressed over relationship problems. With their intelligence, why didn't they seek professional help? I'm no psychologist, but I think people who are unhappy do exhibit some signs to suggest that they are depressed or feeling really down in life. I wonder if the people around them saw their cry for help? I can't help feeling really sorry for them .....



Category: Musings

Mum's Pumpkin Noodle

I've mentioned this dish several times in my blog, the last one on the meme that Evan tagged me. Yes, it's definitely something that I would like eat before I go. I learned how to cook it from my mum. In fact, it's mum's specialty. It's a no fuss dish, extremely easy to prepare and good enough to eat. It reminds me very much of the "Kan Chia Mee" used to be sold at China Street near Club Street where I grew up. Having said that, I'm not sure if we could get pumpkin noodle anywhere here in Singapore. The only pumpkin noodle I know and ever tasted was my mum's. And I usually eat at least two bowls! Here's how you prepare the noodle.

Ingredients (for a family of 4)

• pumpkins (a least 4-6 pieces to make the soup thicker)
  
• dried prawns (100g)
  
• fish cake
  
• chye-sim
  
• cut chili (I prefer chili padi)
  
• fried shallot
  
• salts
  
• msg (optional)
  
• a big pot of water
  

Method

• Fry dried prawn till fragrant
  
• Add pumpkins, stir fry. Dish out and place aside
  
• Boil the pot of water
  
• Throw in pumpkins, stir and let it boil
  
• Add sprinkle of salts. Add msg (optional)
  

Once the soup is done, you could do either two things:
1. Throw in the noodle and cook it as a big pot. In this instance, the noodle has to be consumed fast, or it will become soggy.
2. My preference is to cook the noodle in individual bowl. Pour some of the soup into a sauce pan. Wait for it to boil, then throw in the noodle. Once it's boiled, add the chye-sim. After 30 seconds or so, it's done and then pour the noodle into a bowl. Garnish it with fish cake, fried shallot and cut chili, and the noodle is ready to be served.

I like the noodle with lots of chye-sim, fried shallot and chili padi. You should try this dish at home. The Slim Lady loves it, even the kids. Home-cooked Pumpkin Noodle that I couldn't get elsewhere in Singapore!


Category: Food

A simple lunch

Several years ago, the Slim Lady got hold of a recipe for Chicken Stew from her doctor. It was pretty easy to cook, and both the boys and I love it.

Then we shifted house, and the Slim Lady lost the recipe. She also claimed that she couldn't recall how to cook it without the recipe, easy as it was.

Anyway, I'm feeling kinda adventurous today, so I googled and found some recipe for Chicken Stew. There was no better time to make guinea pigs out of my family. That's it! That would be today's lunch! The result? Well, not too bad really, but I still prefer the one from the Slim Lady's doctor though. I don't know what's missing.



Ingredients (for a family of 4)

• 4 strips of carrots
  
• 6-8 potatoes
  
• 3 onions
  
• garlics
  
• 2 Knorr chicken cubes
  
• oyster sauce (optional)
  

Method

• Fry onions and garlic till fragrant
  
• Add carrots and potatoes
  
• Add chicken
  
• Add Knorr chicken cubes
  
• Add oyster sauces and fry the mixture for about 3 minutes
  
• Transfer mixture to slow cooker and let it simmer for at least 3 hours on high heat.
  
• After 3 hours, turn the heat to low, and the dish is ready to be served
  

Easy to prepare, economical (only $4.20 for all ingredients!) and yummy. *slurp*.

Category: Food

My Army Daze. Si Beh Siong ahhh .....

FOR HONOUR??
Training in the BMT was tough - both mentally and physically. I was never a strong kid, in the physical sense. In school, I wasn't really into sports. And didn't bother to train up prior to my enlistment. In short, I was one of those physically unfit soldiers Chun See mentioned in his blog and whom he's resolved his son would never become.

And so it was I flunked my IPPT and the SOC test during my BMT. I managed only two chin-ups and failed my running. It was not a big deal. The weak ones were made to train doubly hard than the others. I didn't feel "humiliated" for having failed the physical test. When you are a recruit, you soon realise that dignity is hard to come by. And everyone got humiliated, one way or the other.

The SOC was really tough, and I was all worn out just trying to clear the first obstacle, the low wall. Then there was the bayonet fighting. It looks easy, but the thrusting and the shoving of the rifle soon wore many of us out.

I'm sure any soldier worths his salt would know the term extra-drill. This word is really a misnomer. We greenhorn recruits had thought it meant extended drill lessons. But we soon sensed something amiss when we noticed a medic on standby by the side of the parade square. In truth, extra-drill is drill executed in double quick time. We found it quite funny when we first performed the act. It made us look quite "cartoon". That made our OC to comment,"You can laugh. I see later you cry or laugh." True to his words, ten minutes into the extra-drill, some of my fellow recruits started to vomit and one of them even passed out.

Among all the training I had in BMT, I like log PT the best. See, this exercise entails the recruits in rows to manoeuvre a huge log at the command of the PTI. So if the PTI shouted, “Up”, we recruits would hold the log and lift it up over our heads in unison. The problem was, I was never able to reach for the log above me. I don't have to get into the specifics, but the PTI thought I was trying to “keng”! But to me, log PT was really effortless! Tall people like Victor, dig this!! Heh.

Well, if you're fit to be enlisted, you're fit no matter if you failed your IPPT. So, despite managing only two chin-ups, I was posted to SAFTI to take up a course on becoming a section leader.

This is where I had the best part of my NS life. I was posted to Echo company, and met some wonderful instructors. I was sort of the blue-eye boy to my RSM. He became my personal trainer of sort, making me got up earlier than the others, and helping me train in the gym to build up my strength and muscles. He was particular kind towards me, excusing me from fatigue duties, even offering me extra night snacks. Needless to say, I was the envy of the rest of my platoon mates. But such is life. Sometimes, you meet people that help you when you're at the "lowest ebb" of your life. No... no...… I wasn't getting suicidal. Life at SAFTI, as I said, was wonderful, and at the end of my SAFTI stint, I managed ten chin-ups and passed my IPPT with flying colours. I remember my platoon mates applauding for me when I did the chin-up!

SSG Chua should be so proud.

Category: Yesteryear

I know what you did last summer

I don't mean to unnerve you. You may not realise it, but if you'd just pause and think for a minute, you'll realise that you've inadvertently revealed a lot of private information about yourself (and your family) to the world in your blog space.

You don't think so? Okay, let's play PI (Private Investigator) on fellow bloggers whom I've met in the Net. Let's start with Victor.

Victor

Okay, Victor is a good pal of mine, who happened to be a colleague sitting in the cubicle next to me in the office. Let's pretend we've never met. Victor may be surprised to learn that I know a fair bit of details about him, not through our daily interaction in the office, but from his blog.

For a start, Victor just crossed the half-century mark, which reveals his Chinese zodiac sign as a Monkey. He's a wordsmith, extremely witty in his play of words.

He worked as a bank clerk in a foreign bank in the 1970s, and according to comments left by Chris (yours truly) in Victor's blog, he is now a consultant in the Civil Service.

At a towering 6 ft tall, Victor exudes confidence and charm wherever he goes (that's according to Chris again). He's courteous and has very little tolerance for sales-people with poor service standard. He has no qualms writing to establishment such as SingNet to grouse about the contractual dispute he suffered at their hands.

Speaking of hands, Victor is quite good with his hands, showing off his hand-made kite and the Mech Sumo Robot in his blog.

He first car was a Mini Clubman he owned in the 70s. He now drives a Renault Scenic which he purchased in November 05.

He has two boys, the elder of whom is studying in RI. Very "silent" on his wife - suspected both at loggerheads :O

Victor is obsessed with the "vanishing scenes" of Singapore. He moans about the loss of our national heritage such as the National Library and the National Theatre. It is something he has in common with another fellow blogger he met in the Net, Lam Chun See (who's next on my PI list, followed by Evan and ....). He's also passionate about antiques, especially old office equipment such as the Adding Machine.

He was a cheeky boy who grew into a cheeko pek. Victor describes himself as a "sex liberal" and likes to blog about SEX, the figure 69 and the Condom. He wrote that these are his "healthy hobby".

Victor, did I just make you piss on your pants? Okay, easy now ... just calm down, there is no reason to be hysterical.... Let's turn our attention to our friend, Chun See.…

Lam Chun See

At age 54, which makes him a Dragon, Chun See is a self-made man (possibly a self-made millionaire), having started a firm in 1977 called Hoshin Consulting specialising in Japanese-style productivity techniques like 5S and suggestion scheme.

He lives in District 10 with his wife and three kids, whom he called his "three joys"....

Oh dear, did I just freak you guys out and set your alarm bells ringing? Okay, I've made my point, I think I'll just stop this nonsensical irritation. Trust me, these information were ripped off your blogs. And I've not doubt that you could come up with a profile for Chris.

The point I'm trying to make is that sometimes, we do get carried away in writing our blog and unknowingly ended up offering private and confidential information about our families in the net to total strangers.

I find this all rather unsettling and scary. Not too long ago, I read an article about the danger of uploading our kids’ photographs in the Internet, where pedophiles and perverts are known to be lurking. Photographs of our kids perhaps in their pajamas smiling happily at the camera, but we didn't realise that there was a landmark on the background of that photo....That gives the perverts an idea of where we're living... Then there's the fear of kidnapping if you're a millionaire or super rich or stay in district 10 ....

Be afraid. Be very afraid....

Category: Musings

Ooouucccchhh !!!

I've got a toothache and it's due to a tooth decay on my left molar. The pain comes and goes when I least expected it. Each time, I numb the pain with pain killer. But tonight's been really awful. The pain has become more intense and the pain killer did not seem to work any more. I was almost moaning in pain. If you've been through a toothache, you would know that the pain has the potential to create havoc in your life - you can't concentrate on what you're doing, you get cranky and annoyed easily, barking and yelling at the kids (and sometimes the spouse) at the slightest irritation. You wear a perpetual frown on your face, and the only way to make you smile is to turn your face up-side down.

The Slim Lady tried to convince me that the only way to nip the problem in the bud (no pun intended) is to have the offending tooth extracted. Well, so did the dentist. This is an option that I've weighed several times, only to have lost my nerve at the 11th hour and opted for the pain killer instead. Yes, I'm afraid of going to the dentist! Go away!

But I guess I shan't procrastinate much longer. I do worry what would happen if the pain were to strike while I'm in the middle of an important meeting. Or when I'm overseas. Or what if I frown and bark at he Slim Lady at the wrong time? Oh... never underestimate the fury of a woman frowned.... Yes, a man's got to do what he's got to do. I'll book that appointment to see the dentist (yet again). Soon. I hope.

Category: Health

Time to Mini Size Me .....

I love my office. It never fails to remind me just how fat (and ugly) and unhealthy I am. To promote healthy and clean (as in non-toxic) living to its staff (not that we drink and be merry all day in the office, mind you), my office devoted a week from 28 Aug - 1 Sep to what it called the "Body Wellness Week". A host of programmes were lined up to make us workers more aware of what healthy and clean living is all about.

To start off, there was the health-screening by NKF. The screening was pretty basic because it was free (the sales pitch would come later). But it's detailed enough to make me realise just how out of shape I was. Never mind that I've always thought I was in shape, like everyone else - just that my shape is round. But I've learned that I'm at least 5 kg overweight, my body has an excess of 9% fat, and the darnest of all, that my total cholesterol level was on the high side. Well, can't say that I'm really surprised, all thanks to the company of BAGUS, my love for oily and fried food and the lack of sexercise.

Then, there was a talk on SinCity Toxicity by the experts on factors contributing to the toxicity in our daily lives and ways of eliminating the toxins in our bodies. Sorry I was just too lethargic to attend this talk, probably due to the high toxin content in my body. But retail therapy is a different story all together, in the form of a Body Wellness Bazaar right at the glass atrium. Items on sales included organic wheat and barley grass powder, herbal tea and honey, and assortment of nuts that the shop claimed contained no sugar, oil and salt. What they didn't advertise was that they also tasted rather BLAND.

Then I catch the movie "Super Size Me" during lunch time at the auditorium, about a burger bugger who very foolishly decided to abuse his body by subjecting it to a McDonald's binge for a month - yes, nothing but 3 McDonald’s meals a day - just to prove that fast food is really the food from hell, and that when we patronise McDonald's, or any of the fast food chains for that matter, we don't just pay with our wallets, but with our health as well. The movie was sobering, entertaining and at times hilarious. But I don't quite agree with what the chap (his name is Morgan Spurlock - the actor, director and producer all rolled into one) was doing in the film. I mean anyone would get fat like him just gorging on hamburgers and fries all day. On the local context, I guess a 3-meal Char Kway Teow per day for a month would do the same "magic". Still, there's no deny what too much of a "good thing" would do to our health. Go rent the movie if you haven't seen it. Save your kids, and save yourself. It already saved mine! Time to detox and Mini Size Me. Serious.



Category: Health

Five things to eat before my time is up

Gee... I must be so out of touch with the young people of today. Evan tagged me for a "meme". What on earth was that? I googled and deduced that when someone "tags" you for a "meme" with a particular theme, you blog about the theme (and perhaps your are expected to tag others to continue the meme??) Thank God for the Internet - I could pretend to be young and keep up with the young. :P

So, what's the five "die-die-must-eat" food before I go? Though I'm a foodie, I have simple taste... and not very sophisticated one at that.

1. Hainanese Chicken Rice. Yes, like Evan, this is on the top of my list. For me, the secret in tasty Chicken Rice lies in the chillie. I don't have a particular favourite stall, but I do know the stalls to avoid. The one at Banquet in East Point serves pretty decent Hainanese Chicken Rice. So does a stall at Holland Village which I just patronised with Victor and a colleague last week. Can't remember the unit number, but if you'd buy me a plate, I could point out the stall to you :P

2. Pumpkin Noodle. One of my mum's specialty. It's cheap and simple to prepared - pumpkin, dried shrimps, fish cakes and lots of Chye-Sim. I like my pumpkin noodle with lots of cut chillie padi and fried shallots. It always makes me sweat and crave for more. I usually eat two bowls - BIG bowls that we usually use to serve soup.

3. The 合记五香贯肠 at Maxwell Road Food Centre 01-97. I practically grew up eating the ngor hiang and the guan chang from this stall which was originally located at China Street, a stone's throw away from Club Street where I grew up. I particularly like the crispy fried egg slices - tasty, crunchy and not too oily. And the sweet chilli sauce is simply fabulous! Don't quite fancy the egg-white sauce, though.

4. Char Kway Teow - The one at Hill Street used to be my favourite. But alas, it has shifted and I can't remember where. A close second is the stall at Ghim Moh Food Centre. At $3, it is served with a generous among of cockles, hmmmm... my favourite!

5. The "Buddha Jumps Over the Wall" at the Prima Tower Revolving Restaurant. At $10000 per pot (for a table of 8, I think), woa.... I've yet to try, but die die also must get the money - rob or steal or kill - to try before I go! And yes, the Peking duck in the same restaurant looks saliva-dripping good too. What? Oh... that's SIX food I want to try before I go hah? Hmmmm...

Category: Food

Two's company, but EIGHT ???

Give that man, and the woman behind the man, a medal. I'm referring to an article in today's ST about a couple with eight kids, of course. Incidentally, the blessed man, Joseph Kwok, happened to be the brother of a former colleague.

The Slim Lady and I decided to "close factory" and stop at two, after the arrival of Junior in 1992. We have a host of reasons for doing so. Financial is one; the fear of parenting and the responsibility that comes with it is another. And yes, admittedly, we took that decision for a selfish reason too, for having kids would surely take away a lot of our personal time.

But I do like a big family! Well, maybe not eight, but at least four. There would be challenges - bickering kids, complaints on unfairness and the danger of turning the house topsy-turvy. But they make for a family that's bustling with life, laughter and joy, not to mention headache, of course. But the headache pales in comparision with the family-togetherness brought about by the kids. I realise, through the years and as I mellow in age, that perhaps my perception has changed. Yes, I do long for a big family. I can't turn back the clock and this is something that I much regret.

Let's turn the focus on the Kwok's family. See how happy and contented Joseph's family is. Just look at their photos - the kids are all smile, the parents, too. They are happy kids, the youngest being four and the oldest 20. All appear to be well-adjusted and sensible. They may not have the latest toys or gadgets, nor do they dine out very often. But what is not lacking is the love that prevails in the family. The family of 10 survives on Joseph's monthly take-home pay of $3200, no mean feat considering today's standard of living. How I admire the couple.

The "hardware" in the factory may have become rusty and act a little quirky, but I've no doubt that the Slim Lady and I could still father a child or two. But being eight years shy of crossing the half-century mark (my wife's two years younger), I do worry about people mistaking us as grandparents. I guess it's too little too late for us, not that the Slim Lady is willing anyway. It's all wishful thinking on my part. And I may have to take her forcefully, if I have too :P

But I've done my maths. The youngest child, Antoine, is just four. And if Mrs Kwok was reported to be 45, that means she had the boy when she was 42. My wife is relative younger. Besides, it's not as if I'm 50, or 54 :P There's hope yet.

Years ago, another colleague of mine was also featured on TV with her day-to-day life as a mother of five. Again, it evoked that feeling in me, the feeling of joy in having a big and boisterous family.


Category: Family

My Army Daze. The day after .....

Long as it was, my enlistment day had to end somewhere. That was at about 2359H, when the instructors told us to "light-off". That was their way of telling us, "Recruits, now you can sleep!" I don't think it was just me; but as soon as our botak heads hit our beds, we were sleeping like babies. We had never been so shag and exhausted in our life! Of course, we had no idea then that life in the army would only get worse.

Then, as I lay asleep in the squeaky bed, deep in my dreamland, I heard, as did many of my platoon-mates, a voice that went "Golf company, wake up! Golf company, wake up!" It was only 5 am. Huh? Time to wake up? And I thought I only caught a wink! The voice went on for a good 5 minutes, between intervals. If I tried hard enough, I could still hear that deep and loud voice, which belonged to a fella recruit named Jeffrey Ong. I remember how on the ball (an army lingo - more on that in subsequent post) Jeffrey was. He was always the first to rise in the morning, the first to cross the finishing line during the IPPT, and if given a chance, I suspect he would be the first to be in the front line to fight for our country. Basically, he was all that I wasn't. But he also became the platoon's "human" alarm clock (self-appointed). LOL.

We were always sleep-deprived. And I missed the sun badly. The moon? It was shining when we light-off at 2359H, and shining still when we rose at 0500H, sometimes earlier at 0430H if we had a shooting range exercise. I hated the moon!

Many of us had never shared much personal time and space with others the way we did during the BMT. Imagine having to do so with recruits of different shapes and sizes, the fit and the weak, the meek and the garang, the bright and the sotong. This is communal living quite unlike those we have with our neighbors, friends and relatives. And like a husband and wife team, it's important that we get along, or life would have been one living hell.

Happily, got along we did. We had no choice. If someone blunders up, the whole platoon got punished. So we were forced to help one another, to complete a task in a specific time as instructed by the instructors.

My fellow recruits-in-suffering

I have vague memories of my fella recruits. Other than Jeffrey, there was lanky Gilbert Leong whom I had caught on TV once talking about, if my memories serve, some sort of investment in a TV programme. He was really tall, and was the one who was always humming songs like "Tie a yellow-ribbon round the old oak tree" in the bunk, especially during book-out time. He was also a bit of a drama king. Once we were told to go fight a bush fire (don't ask me why, but since when had recruits become firemen?), I lost my footing and fell on a rocky ground. Gilbert started shouting, "Casualty! Casualty! Someone fell! Casualty!" Damn drama, man!

There was the very courteous Wee Tee (can't recall his surname). I remembered him because he was scolded by the OC for his good-manners. You see, the instructors and the OC would tell us recruits to "drop down 20" at their every whim and fancy. This is the army lingo to tell us to do 20 push-ups as a form of punishment. Once we had done so, we must ask permission to stand up; so we went, "permission to recover, Sir?!". The instructors or the OC would usually respond, "carry on" unless they want to tekan (another lingo) us. So in this instance, when our OC said, "carry on", our friend Wee Tee quipped chirppily, "thank you, sir", to which our OC shouted, "Don't be a cartoon! When I say RECOVER, don't thank me! There's no Thank You in the army!!" How's that for friendly forces? Hee.

Within days in the BMT, one could also tell the sotongs or blur kings from the smart-alecks, the keng kings (one who malingers) from the hardworking. The blur kings are the one who fumble over things, and who couldn't seem to understand simple instructions. There was this chap Low Chin Fie, who asked his mum to sew up the opening of the pockets of his army pants, when the instructions from the instructors were to just sew up the hems of the pockets. It was funny, but the blur kings are usually the one who inadvertently sabo the whole platoon. There were also some who weren't blur but acted blur, very much like the keng kings. The latter are those who malinger to avoid work. I remember a chap called Anthony Liang, who feigned a sprained-ankle just to avoid going on exercise. I knew because I saw him in the toilet walking up-right instead of limping the way he did out in the open, especially in front of the instructors. But I didn't blow the whistle. Don't ask me why.

I remember Ng Fatt Keong, who became a photographer for Pioneer Magazine (I think he signed on as a regular).

Blur kings, keng kings or smarty-pants, we were forced to stick together come hell or high water. We trained together, suffered together, and I'd like to think that we came out of the BMT ordeal a fitter, a more disciplined, and overall, a better person.

Some wonderful friendships were formed out of the camaraderie we experienced during BMT. I've lost touch with my buddy Tan Kian Guan and often wonder the whereabout of him or what has become of him. I'm sorry I can't remember many of the rest of chaps, and even if I were to run into them on the street, I doubt I could even recognise them. Not even the platoon's photo may be of help.....

27th Intake Basic Military Training
Golf Coy Platoon 28
23rd March 83 - 17th June 83

Category: Yesteryear

My Army Daze (Part 2)

Amy talks

The first thing that we recruits have to get used to in the Army was the army lingo and especially the colourful expletives often uttered by the lau cheow on us recruits. It started almost as soon as we stepped onto Tekong. The word lau cheow, by the way, is the army lingo to mean a veteran in Hokkien. In this instance, a reference to the BMT instructors who are mostly NCO, or the CO, the officer in charge of the platoon, or the recurits who have since passed out and obtained their ikan-bilis stripe (a Lance Corporal) before you.

Other lingo:

• Fall in - to get into lines
  
• Double up - to run instead of walk
  
• Standby Bed - and inspection on the tidiness of your bed and cupboard by the NCO or officer
  
• Extra Duty - usually a form of punishment in the form of performing guard duty (to patrol around the came on foot) over the weekends while your lucky camp-mates book out.
  Talk cock
  Tekan
  
• Knock it down 20 - drop down and perform 20 push-ups
  
• Extra Drill - well, this is not really an extra drill, but rather a drill that you have to perform in double quick time, i.e., you kebelakang pusing in double quick time, you march in double quick time. This is really a torture and it requires a medic to standby just in case any of us recruit drop dead or pengsan (faint)
  

Then there are the many expletives uttered by the instructors and NCO alike which is enough to make a soldier, I mean a sailor brush. To a goody-two-shoe like me, it was a shock. And to be sworn at in this fashion, it was total humiliation, well, at least in the early stage. Eventually, everybody got sworn at, and I realised that everybody around me, except the gods in the form of the NCOs and the officer, was an a**hole, everybody was a blur f*ck, and you just don't feel the humiliation any more.

........ next "Let's Get Physical".....

My Army Daze. The enlistment day .....

Chun See's account on his NS days stirred up memories of my own.

I can't recall much of my emotions on the day I entered the army. But it must have been one of apprehension and fear. Unfortunately, this fear was perpetuated by none other than my mum. She was always telling me how skinny and physically weak I was and how I would definitely suffer when I eventually enlisted for my NS.

The Enlistment Day

Well, that day arrived on 23 March 1983. I remembered how long a day it was. We were told to report first to CMPB where my pal Victor, the downgraded soldier, served as a clerk several years prior to my enlistment. From there, we recruit-to-be were then brought, on a 3-tonner - the first time I was ever onboard an army vehicle, to the jetty at Changi to take an RPL to Pulau Tekong camp, our new home for the next 3 months.

When the RPL finally anchored at the jetty some 45 minutes later, some of us guys might be forgiven for thinking that we had landed in Hawaii. It just showed how much in self-denial many of us were. There were the sun, the sand and the sea, not to mention the abundant coconut trees. The only thing missing were the Hawaiian girls welcoming us with garlands and cooing "aloha". Realities were soon to hit us.

We were the 2nd batch of recruits to be trained at Tekong. The first batch had it easy - they only shifted equipment and stuff from SBMT to Tekong and do area-cleaning most of the time, so were we told.

Back then, Tekong was not very well developed. Instead of proper road, we had earth - red earth. The army bunks were like longhouses. From the Tekong jetty, it was another 20 minutes march to the bunk. And by the time we reached the bunk, most of us were literally covered in dust.

I remember lugging along the huge kit bag, commonly known as the Ali Baba bag, all the way to the bunk. The Ali Baba bag was used to store all the issued items like the army boots, No. 4 uniforms and SOP before we transferred these into our cupboards in our bunk.

On arrival at our bunk, we were told that we've been assigned to Golf company; a company we subsequently learned to be one of the most "on the ball" and siong.

To many of us, the BMT was a rude awakening. Life thus far had been sweet and comfy. We were free to do what we want, answerable only to our parents. And many of us had never left home, save for a couple of nights at chalets with friends or family members.

But once we stepped into Tekong, it was as if we were living on the other side of the globe. The moment we put our stuff in the bunk, and changed to our PT kit as instructed, everything moved in double quick time. We were sworn at by the instructors, told to double up (the military term to run) from one point to another. In the army, you don't walk. No you don't, soldier. You double up from the bunk to the training shed, and double up from the training shed to the cookhouse. There was hardly time for us to breathe. And that aweful and dreadful chin-up bar. Yes, we had to do chin-ups before every meal. If there was hell, then this must be it. I found it almost surreal in the beginning. More about the "physical torture" in subsequent post.

The BMT was also the first time we experienced living with people of other races and of different cultures. Gruelling training aside, it was also a lesson in racial-tolerance and harmonious-living. How often do you get 36 boys - Chinese, Malay, Indian and the Eurasian - all living under the same roof? There were two Sikhs in my group. Have you seen how a Sikh does his turban? Not to sound disrespectful, but it was exactly how my late granny did her ang ku kueh bun. They simply twirled their hair round and round, followed by the turban itself, which is really a piece of long, oblong cloth.

As I said, it was a long day. I remember the hair-cut, or should I say hair-shearing session. All of us were brought to the Hall where the Indian barbers were waiting with their scissors and shearers. It was a dreadful time for most of us, especially those metrosexuals (okay, so that word hadn't been coined yet) with shoulder-length hair. Indeed, it's been said that the inevitable hair-shear is like a rite of passage into NS. But to many, it's a time for them to mourn the loss of their precious locks. As for me, half way through my turn, there was an electricity blackout. I just sat there with my hair looking ridiculously half civy and half army for a good 15-minutes.


Signs of things to come, I remember thinking. And as days turn into nights, and nights turned into weeks, I experienced many aspects of the army I never thought I would. It's not all bad memories; many are bitter sweet.

.......to be continued

Category: Yesteryear

What makes me a Singaporean

Frannxis, a fellow blogger, seems to have problem understanding why people who profess to be proud of being Singaporean find it a bother to display the Singapore flags. He ponders and I quote: "Displaying the flag is just a small way to show our affection. Is it too troublesome? And if a lot of people think this way, then there will be only a few flags hanging out. It will look pathetic", unquote.

Yeah, why not indeed? And for that matter, to the truly patriotic Singaporeans, why not put up the flags the whole year round? Why does it have to be during National Day?

Oh... I almost forgot.... There are rules about displaying our flag here. Firstly, you can't make clothes out of our national flags, like the Americans or the British are prone to do. You have to be mindful to ensure that the stars and the crescent moon on our flags are displayed on the right side, which is, well, on the left side. And oh... you could only display the flag for a certain period after National Day. Displaying your patriotism longer then allowed and you'd get a courtesy call by men appointed by the Gahmen.

I find all these rather amusing. Stand up for Singapore, they said. But hey, you can't stand up indefinitely, even if you want to. Let's not forget how "fine" a city Singapore is.

The STPB is absolutely right when it adopted the slogan "Uniquely Singapore". We Singaporeans are truly unique in our own way. And on this National Day eve, I'd like to reflect on what it truly means to be a Singaporean, or rather, why I think I'm a Singaporean. Well, I call myself a Singaporean because:

• I'm kiasi, kiasu and very sometimes kiabor.
  
  
• My favorite pastime is to queue-up at the 4-D outlet every weekend.
  
  
• I don't know what you are queuing for here; but I'll join in anyway cos I know it will be something not to be missed.
  
  
• I speak Singlish. Cannot meh? My business wat.
  
  
• One of my passions is food and I like Hainanese Chicken Rice, Char Kway Teow and Or Luak - in that order.
  
  
• I "chop" the seat at the "1000-people restaurant" with my tissue paper and that seat belongs to me!
  
  
• I love the gahmen when they gave me my "progress package" but "scolded" (ya, I know it's too mild a word) them when cost of living goes up.
  
  
• I know it's crazy, but I paid big bucks for a small piece of paper we call the COE just to get my four wheels.
  
  
• I "drag" my wheels to avoid the ERP.
  
  
• My the other passion is shopping and I don't usually wait for the Singapore Great Sale to go on a shopping spree.
  

This is by no means an exhaustive list of what I think Singaporeans are. I'm sure Victor or Chun See would have their very own list... And considering how obsessed Victor is with Sex, the figure 69, rubber and all (his healthy hobby, so he says), I won't be the least surprised if Victor writes:

I'm a Singaporean because I'm so sex and porno deprived.

ROTFLVL.

Category: Musings

The American heroes

The Americans are great story-tellers. No, correction - they are great film-makers. And I don't mean that in a sarcastic sort of way.

I've just caught Pearl Harbor on DVD. I'm not into American history, but I enjoyed the show thoroughly, especially the battle and combat scenes. And I love the music score (the current soundtrack on the background of my blog). Pearl Harbor was foremost a movie about war. But like many movies churned out of Tinseltown based on true-life events, Pearl Harbor also tells a love story about two pilots who fell for a nurse. It's a moving love story that leaves me in tears. The Americans have a propensity to mix factual events with fiction, more often than not, love stories, and not everybody is comfortable with that. I can see where they're coming from. The love stories are necessary as subplots, or the movie would have been just another documentary, hardly box-office material that would appeal to the masses.



But let's come back to the American film-makers. These are the guys responsible for the creation of many American heroes, many of them brought back to life from comic strips - the superheroes such as Superman, Batman and Spiderman. Then there are the protagonists from movies such as Die Hard, Independence Day, and yes the hero pilots in Pearl Harbor. These movies are box-office hits, many of them featuring violent and explosive scenes. And when we look at the atrocities committed by the terrorists today, it makes you wonder where these terrorists got their ideas from, doesn't it?

Indeed, when America was attacked during 911, people were known to have quipped: Where have all the heroes gone?

Category: Movies