Control, this is Blue Leader, we are approaching the Padang for flypa… oops overshot, let’s go arou…. oops, we’re over Batam, going arou… oops, we’re over Woodlands, turning agai…. shit, we’re past Tuas… coming round to the Padang agai… shit! Changi liao!

Above all, noisier than all, thems fighter jets and choppers have been making circles all over the island practicing and practicing so that they can get it just right. I’ve missed half a dozen calls on my mobile because of the racket they’ve been making, and I’ve been shouting more than I usually do.

At the coffee shop downstairs of my office, a taxi-driver on a coffee break looked up at the be-circling jets and said, WAH LAO SINGAPORE! ROAD JAM NOT ENOUGH MUST SKY JAM!

Economy Rice to the rescue
Economy Rice to the rescue. (Tsunami relief efforts, Jan 05)

On a more serious note while my ears are still ringing, Serene Luo of the Straits Times called today to tell me of a 99 year old Samsui woman who wants to attend the National Day Parade, but who can’t get a ticket.

She says that she’s tried calling everyone, but her pleas have fallen on deaf ears (see lah, fly aeroplane so often some more!)

Serene writes:

She’s Madam How Cheon Mui, a Cantonese woman from the Samsui province in Guangdong, China, came to Singapore in the 1930s, leaving her husband and children back home while she worked here. Distinguished by their navy blue outfits and bright red headgear, Mdm How was one of those women who helped build the DBS building in Shenton Way, and Changi Airport in the 1970s.

Her husband is long gone; the last time she went back to China was some 18 years ago. She now lives in Grace Lodge in the Sengkang area, after she took a nasty fall a few years ago.

A member of the public, Anthony, called up a colleague after she’d written an article last week about two samsui women in their 70s who will be taking part in the parade. Anthony is a distant relative of Mdm How’s. He’s appealing to us to help find an extra ticket to this year’s parade for her. Because she’s wheelchair-bound after the fall, he was hoping to get two or three tickets so his parents can take her to the parade, and explain it to her (she speaks Cantonese only). But if that’s impossible, just one ticket will do, and Anthony will even pick her up from the home, take her to any meeting point and pick her up after.

If the ticket simply is an extra goodie bag for you, or if you really aren’t a flag-waving, whistle-tooting, patriotic song-singing person, or if for whatever reason, you suddenly can’t make the parade, please do try and make it a little different for someone else.

Dear Singaporeans, dear bloggers, I know you all don’t like journalists very much. I also know it’s a far shot, seeing that NDP tickets are highly sought after. But I’m hoping that perhaps from somewhere in your heart, if you might be able to help, please do!

Samsui city: These are the women that built Singapore

I’d give up my NDP ticket to Madam How, wouldn’t you? It would seem a little absurd that there are Samsui Women featured at the parade, but this one poor Samsui woman can’t get a seat to watch it. How can? It’s a blooming shame!

Blooming copy writer
What da heow? Who da blooming copy writer?

iTunes Party Shuffle is playing a copy of 沉睡的珊瑚礁 from the album “Pbylmount Jazz Of Shanghai (Disc 1)” by Shanghai Old Pbylmount Jazz Band

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TODAY: Bloggers get a battering from mainstream media


IF you read the local newspapers over the weekend, you’d have seen many column inches devoted to blogs — how useless and inconsequential they are, and then how dangerous they are.

A few bloggers’ feathers were ruffled by one tabloid’s investigative piece titled “Blogheads or what?”, which drew a comparison of the contents of American and Singapore blogs.

Blogger “Sheylara” ( retorted, “you can’t help but sense the strong disparaging undertone just yelling out between the lines of this particular article … It is saying that Singaporean bloggers are second-rate compared to US bloggers”.

On top of that, there was the inimitable journalist Sumiko Tan weighing in on the Internet and blogs as well.

Read more here.

Orgasmic organic wholesome goodness

It was my grandmother who introduced me to organic foods.

She used to live in a shophouse in Seremban where she kept livestock together with my uncles and aunts on the 2nd floor, and where she also planted all manner of herbs and spices in little pots on the balcony. There was also a papaya tree on the balcony that eventually crashed, pot and all into the back lane below, but that’s another story.

Once, when I misbehaved (to a greater degree than I usually did), she put me in the cage that held the fiercest live gobbledegooking turkey on the planet. Imagine, if you will, a snotty, grimy four year old, terrified out of his wits, grabbing at the chicken wire, screaming for forgiveness, getting snottier and grimier and, not to mention, soiled, on account of fear-induced defecation, and you’d imagine a four-year-old me, being attacked from head to foot by Thanksgivingosaurus Max. In a cage. Watched by Granny and Uncles and Aunts. Like a Gladiator. Not.

And so, it was with that happy memory that I was re-introduced to organic foods on Sunday at Bunalun (Chip Bee Gardens, opp. Holland Village). I can’t remember exactly what I ate, only that it was good. The wild rice wild something something went really well with the wild pita bread with wild avocado and nabeh-sibeh hot wild chili padi, as did the wild olive wild puree wild dip. Only the coffee was a little tame.

A few minutes after brunch, I felt this almost overwhelming sensation of goodness in my tummy. I kid you not. Your body likes this organic food, and this organic food likes your body back. I felt so good I even managed to read theNew Paper on Sunday and Sumiko Tan’s Fear & Loathing in Blog Vegas word for word.

I have decided. When I get married, the wedding fare will be from Bunalun. Ten course meal of wild something something with wild something somethings for everyone!





Surf stop: Sheylara

Everyone Loves You When You’re Down from the album “Everyone Loves You” by Naomi

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Special Saturday

On Saturday afternoon, I was reminded why I like working with my business partners.

After our regular schedule of gymnastics classes, I was just about to pack up my things and head home when I was told, ‘Dude, you’re up for the Special Olympics class at 6pm’.

My shoulders dropped and I think I started sulking, because I was really tired that day, and I was looking forward to a Saturday evening off. A Special Needs gymnastics class was almost definitely going to chuck that out.

Then the kids and their parents arrived and we started the warm ups. Within a couple of minutes, the enthusiasm of these children, aged between six and twelve, rubbed off on everyone – coaches, parents and everyone else watching.

The parents were smiling, and I found myself smiling most of the session (except for when we were on trampoline duty, watching three autistic kids – quite stressful). I was less tired for the rest of the evening. (But still too tired to attend a big party on a yacht I was supposed to attend).

My business partners and I have been running this gymnastics for Special Needs kids for three Saturdays now, and I’ve been so busy with work that I’ve only just realised that it’s been more than half a year since we started trying to put this together.

Thank you Singapore Sports Council for assisting in procuring Bishan Sports Hall for our program. And thank you to the various organisations who’ve been passing word around to parents of special needs kids. All we need now is some way to recoup our cost of hiring coaches and assistants (we’re currently doing this pro bono).

If you’re interested in volunteering your services at our special needs classes, please email me and I’ll put you in touch with my partners. I tell you, it’s a much better way of spending your time than say, reading the New Paper.

Work @ Bishan Sports Hall
Saturday arvo at work

Surf stop: threezframe

Blue Moon from the album “Music To Watch Girls By (Disc 2)” by Mel Torme

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