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I have read almost all of Paulo Coelho’s English translated novels (except “Like the Flowing River”).  “Winner”, to me, is by far his darkest piece of work.  Still inspirational, like all his previous works.  But it delivers blow after blow to the readers and make us think: What have we been doing to our lives?

The story centers around a Russian millionaire who believes in killing is acceptable if for a good course, his ex-wife, and her current husband who is a fashion magnate.  Upfront, at the preface, Paulo Coelho has already warned the readers that “this is not a thriller, but a stark portrait of where we are now.”  To read “Winner” as a thriller is certainly not the right way.  This novel – more so than others – has a concocted tone of sharing facts and insights mixed with his personal opinions (which can at times be eye-opening), long dialogues from one character or multiple characters that sound like coming from the same person (which is least of my favorite although they can be inspirational), parables and inspirational quotes (which I love), and story development.  I admit that at times, the tone is not as cohesive as I wish to be.  However, if indeed not reading “Winner” as a thriller, there are tons of inspirational messages and truth to chew onto.

Paulo Coelho, in his new book, shares details of the fashion and filming industries and the associated celebrity businesses.  Some are rather repulsive to read, especially when he illustrates how much we are into vanity these days.  Such as “A diamond is the supreme manifestation of human vanity” accompanied with pages of write-up on the diamond industry – from the violence it causes to a piece of jewelery we wear.  Most observations are not new to us.  Just that we don’t often articulate them that way.  Like film scripts to him are mostly man loves woman, man loses woman, and man gets woman back.  If the script is anything but, make sure there is enough violence or special effect to make up for it.  And his list of 46 random items on what ‘being normal’ means also got me thinking on how we accept the our environment or behavior as normal, in which if you think deeper, you may question why.  Such as criticizing anyone who tries to be different, swearing in heavy traffic, or studying at an university for years only finds that you’re unemployable at the end of it, and more.

These are just warm up items.  There are harder messages he delivers.  In the old days, we make pilgrimages to be close to something spiritual that is unattainable and mysterious that can bring blessings.   These days, people visit pop concerts more than religious meetings and we worship celebrities in different ways.  He also talks about the celebrity syndrome some may have – abandoning what we believe in for fame, ego, and money.  We are suffocated by lies, encouraged to put our faith in science instead of spiritual values, and we feed our souls with what society tells us are important.  As a result, we are unable to give up all these for true happiness – that is family, nature, and love.

You really could feel a bit depressed by self-reflecting on what he says.  Fortunately, there are interesting observations he shares as well as what we could do better.  For example, the author mentioned that there are four forces that guide us to purify our souls: love, death, power, and time.  In short, we must love because we are loved by God while conscious of death, struggle to grow but not trapped by the power gained.   And our soul is bounded by the web of time with all opportunities as well as limitations.  On our current environmental crisis, he highlights that we are not saving the planet, but rather, saving ourselves from not being destroyed by the planet.  Because the planet is stronger than us.  He also raises my doubt on our “fittest survives” mentality in our day-to-day life when we, human beings, need care and protection especially from young as compared to other species (and hence, I gather, we shall continue to do so in our daily life).

The author also touches onto the topic of workaholic that I enjoy reading as I am a firm believer of the need of work life balance.  First he says all workaholics think they are happy doing what they are doing.  And it is not something society wants to fix because it helps human progression in the expense of the obvious.  Total power – as you advance in career – means total slavery.  You find it harder to let go as you gain power and you can’t even do the simple things in life.  To combat it, use work as a source of happiness but not compulsion.  I guess what he says (and what I practice) is by all means, be happy with work but know when to let go and enjoy the simple things in life.  Seek for true happiness in family, nature, and love – something work does not provide you with.

There is one parable that I very much enjoy reading, got me into thinking.  This is what I have internalized: One day a sea gull saw a mouse on the ground.  Not able to communicate as they spoke in different languages, the sea gull took pity on the creature that has lost its wings.  So the sea gull took the mouse onto its back, took flight to the sky thinking that the mouse must have been missing what it was like flying in the air.  The mouse had a time of its life and when it was brought back to the ground, as it saw the sea gull took off and disappeared, the mouse began to feel sad, not to be able to experienced that form of freedom again.  As days went by, the mouse looked into this miracle thinking that it was just a dream instead.

I think, we often fail to acknowledge the little miracles in life.  I can relate to that parable.

To round up this book summary without giving out the plot, there is one constant theme that appears as I read the book.  It is the voice of the Devil.  In our daily lives, we have encountered many decision points.  And at each juncture, there is a little voice in our head to help us decide.  Is that the voice of the Angel?  Or indeed the voice of the Devil that conditions us in believing that all that we do is for the better even if it comes with a price, knowing something is wrong but yet we create justifications, and failing to see through the obvious or normalcy when everyone is doing it.

You won’t like it when you read “The Winner Stands Alone”.  But you will certainly benefit from it and may become or wanting to become a better person.  That’s what an inspiration book, not a thriller, is for – for “Winner” does not entertain.  Be warned.

PS. Finished this book right before my Barcelona holiday trip.

OK.  If you do intend to watch this movie, try to stay just a little bit longer when the credits start to roll.  There is a kind of funny clip that you would have missed.  The thing is, I am intrigued that Singaporeans, or Asians in general, are so eager to rush out of the theatre the moment the film is over.  In Europe, at least back in my schooling days, most viewers stayed till the very end of the show, after the rolling of credits.  Personally I enjoy the unwinding process, the music, to get a bit of insight on what’s behind the scene, and to pay a small tribute to those who have worked hard for the project.

My buddy TK and I often keep our text messages short.  That’s what SMS is meant to be.  This morning, knowing that he was waiting for me to confirm the movie title for tonight, I wanted to text “I love you man”.  But it sounded wrong.  So I appended, “I love you man, ok?”  It still sounded wrong so I reminded him that it’s a movie title.  Just in case.

When men hang out, we may do weird stuffs, say weird stuffs, and it is a very strange feeling to see how men bond on a big screen.  That’s why I cringed when I watched “I Love You, Man”.

I love chick flicks, as I find it intriguing to watch how women bond.  And I am not sure if it is the same level of enjoyment to Cynthia when she watched this movie.  Gosh, she likes it so much.  Honestly speaking, I am kind of a bit embarrassed.  I mean, these are meant to be behind-the-scene silly things that men say, or do.

There is a certain level of honesty, a lively script performed by Jason Segel (of Forgetting Sarah Marshall) and Paul Rudd whom I later on remembered him as the lover of Phoebe in the TV series Friends – thanks to Cynthia.  The storyline is mostly predictable though it’s a quality piece of comedy.

This film caused me to self-reflect.  What would I do if I have to make some new guy friends (as my best man) right now?  I don’t golf and I don’t drink anymore; I don’t party and I don’t watch football.  How stressful it would be!  And how about those silly things men do?  Part of me tells me that we are all grown-ups and we behave as proper adults.  Then I remember those days not too long ago when our band jammed at my home, my guitarist and I were going all crazy – screaming and making rock gestures – rehearsing our song “Unleash The Beast” in front of his then girlfriend – thank God they still end up married – that was worse than what you see in the movie.

Though I personally find the film a bit embarrassing to watch, I do like the repeated ‘community message’ targeted at the female audience.  Yes, in bed, we men love to …

Day 14: Mallorca – Barcelona – Frankfurt – Singapore

This entry is dedicated to all those who are working thanklessly facing tired and at times hostile travellers every night and day at the airport when things don’t go as planned.  Now that I have had a taste on what’s behind the scene having missed a connecting flight and lost a luggage, I salute you all.  May you see beauty in life and forget those angry faces or voices before the sun rises every morning.

Mallorca

My initial intention was to publish a day-to-day account of our journey to Spain completed with a special photo collection every Sunday, starting next Sunday.  Then I stare into day 13.  It’s nothing like the rest.  Maybe it is a good idea to document day 13 first with the little photos we took that day.

Our return trip was supposed to be straightforward.  Turn up at the new Barcelona Airport terminal, T1, before 7pm and take the Lufthansa flight to Singapore via Frankfurt.  The day started like every other day, bright and sunny, blue sky and the gentle breeze from the sea or the mountain or the city.

No.  Come to think of it, our day started with some drunk guy or guys yelling and banging doors at our corridor in the wee hours of a resort island where parties go on every night.  We were at the main island Mallorca.  I can’t imagine what Ibiza, the party island right next to Mallorca, is like.

Throughout the trip, we stayed at four-star hotels.  They are not that expensive.  The price ranges from 70€ to 120€ (1€ = S$2) a night.  But Mallorca is special.  The whole island is like a resort for the Europeans, mostly British judging at the menu items displayed.  They even have my favorite Steak and Kidney Pie.  The whole island doesn’t speak much Spanish.  Mostly English.  When we conversed with the locals in Spanish, they were pleasantly surprised.

So we dropped a star and stayed at a three-star hotel in Mallorca because accommodation seems expensive and hard to come by in an island resort that seems to be so popular amongst the Europeans.  There was no air-conditioning, no hairdryer, and no hand soap.  A basic room in a dorm style, long corridors full of rooms, full of young teenagers in beach wears.  Guys in shorts and nothing on top would pass by the hotel lobby and said “What’s up ladies”.  The girls would just toss a “I don’t care” look.  Youngsters at the balconies would yell at the pedestrians calling names and talking rubbish.  You get the picture.  I felt like I was back in school.

We have decided to sleep in and have a relaxing morning.  To pack up and to enjoy the sun.  Our flight from Mallorca to Barcelona via Spanair (Spanish budget airline I think) was at 2pm.  We took a nice drive from the beach town Malaluf, down the highway (there is only one in Mallorca) and into Palma, where the airport is at.  If you read the entire list of flight departure and arrival like I do, you would notice a long list of all the major capitals in Europe.

Barcelona

Not planned to stay at the brand new Terminal 1 for four hours during our transit, I proposed to get out of the airport and have our third attempt to visit the Picasso Museum.  I am a man of determination.  When we first arrived at the doorsteps of the museum, it was closing in less than an hour’s time.  The second time it was closed.  Most museums close on Mondays, so we’ve learned (after which, we dedicated Sunday to be a mindless museum clawing day).  I was thinking of a third time charm.  Let’s go.  It’s Amazing Race time!

There is no train station in Terminal 1, so we took the transit bus to T2 – the terminal where we first landed in Barcelona.  In a hurry, we nearly boarded the bus that was heading into the parking lot instead.  “This bus is heading to a parking lot.  Do you want to get to a parking lot?” asked a black man wearing an airport tag by the bus stop.  “Not really,” I replied.  “Then wait here for the next bus,” he pointed at another bay.  I wonder if his job is to stand at the bus stop prompting travellers not to get into the wrong bus.  Anyway, we chatted and he has a cousin living in Singapore.  “You should visit Singapore one day.  It’s as sunny and warm as Spain and Singapore is a beautiful country,” I said.  “I will, one day,” he replied.  “Take care,” I said to him as we boarded the transit bus.

OK.  The distance between T1 to T2 is nothing like our Changi airport.  It was more like a 10 minutes bus drive!  Once we were in T1, we felt at home.  We took a long walk through the flyover, reached the station, paid 5.60€ for a pair of tickets, and boarded the train.

I reckon the train only departs every 30 minutes, which is a shame.  My hope of stepping into the Picasso Museum dwindled as the clock ticked.  Out of nowhere, while we were waiting for the train to leave the station, a black man appeared with two pieces of luggage, sat opposite to us, and said hi.  I said hi thinking if I should continue to say something meaningful.  He took out his Blackberry and I stopped there.

Out of nowhere, during our train ride, the black man opposite spoke, “Are you a Malaysian?”  “No, I am a Singaporean,” I replied.  “Ah, but you don’t have the lah behind every sentences like the Singaporeans do!”  I thought the Malaysians do too.  OK.  It’s a small world.  He too stays in Singapore and he works at the banking industry like us!  The conversation turned lively.  Before we reached the city center, he looked into yonder and said, “Your bank is doing well.  Unlike mine.  I pray every night that I will still have a job tomorrow.”  I replied, “Well, it’s a global economy.  Even our people are losing their jobs.”  Really, he asked.  Yes really.  Somehow, inside that train, looking at the bright and sunny day outside, the global economy downturn seems to be so far away, seems so … nonexistent.

We ran out of the platform ready to dive into the Metro (underground transport).  I have even memorized how to get to the Picasso Museum.  Looking at the huge clock hanging at the center of the station, we did a time check.  Duh!  We would run out of time.  So I suggested having tapas snack with agua con gas (sparkling water) at the same restaurant we had our first meal in Spain, the same place where the waiter taught us how to order sparkling water in Spanish, and from then on, everywhere we went, we ordered agua con gas.

Tapas y Agua Con Gas

As seen in the picture on top of this post, Cynthia was happily eating Tapas inside a restaurant.  Tapas come in small portion.  Like the one you see in the picture above is diced fresh tomato and cheese soaked in – I think – olive oil.  What you don’t see is another dish we’ve order – chopped octopus and crunchy vegetables also soaked in what appears as olive oil.  Ordering tapas is easy at the bar (which is the cheapest way to eat by the way as you pay more siting at a table and even more siting at a table outside).  Just point at the sushi bar like container (see picture below).

It was a strange feeling retracing day 1 of our trip on the last day of our holiday.  It was as though the holiday never ends.  It just goes into a loop.  And it was a nice feeling.  Still is.

Barcelona Terminal 1

Going back to the terminal was a whole lot faster than getting out of the terminal.  The train departed the moment we dived inside helped.  The transit bus that is timed with the train ’s arrival at T2 helped too.  In no time we were back inside the airport, shopping.  According to what we’ve read, this new terminal is the largest infrastructure project in Barcelona for the last 20 years!  And I wonder, would centuries later, the future generation turns this huge infrastructure into a tourist spot?  Like the monuments and Cathedrals.  Further I wonder, would what we build today stand the test of time like those made in stone hundreds and thousands of years ago?

Zara (pronounced as Tha-ra by the way) is popular in Spain.  I was crazy over Zara.  Cynthia was infested by my zest over Zara.  And there is, of course, a Zara inside the airport.

Pretty eh?

I wanted to get rid of all the Euros (bad idea by the way as you later on will see, we didn’t even have enough money to buy water in Frankfurt) so we blew them all inside a gift shop.  We took a tad too long and the departure gate was opened by the time we finished our shopping.  Learned from previous experience that the gate could be far.  And we re-checked the gate number again as the airports in Spain have the tendency to change the gate without public announcement.  At first we were puzzled when we saw a question mark behind the gate number stated on our boarding pass.  Now we know.

Running like mad couple, we arrived at the gate that displayed the Lufthansa logo and the destination Frankfurt.  I almost knocked onto the tall stern looking German at the gate when he said, “Hola, [something in German I reckon], and Good Morning.  This gate opens in a few minutes.”  He reminded me of a Terminator.  I stepped back, looked behind us, and saw many pairs of eyes staring at us, waiting to board the plane.

Awk-ward …

Frankfurt Airport

We hate the airport.  Nearly missed a flight on day 1 as we didn’t anticipate the airport is so darn huge.  On paper, from the time our plane (from Barcelona) scheduled to land to the time our connecting plane’s gate scheduled to open was 15 minutes.  How on earth do people manage to get out of the plane even if it lands on time, run across the long hallway, go through the queue of passport check, and the pretty tight security check in 15 minutes, I have no clue.  Apparently our plane did not depart Barcelona on time.  It was a terrible flight.  On our left, a white gentleman in his forties accidentally knocked over a beer glass and splashed beer onto Cynthia’s jeans.  On our right, a Spanish lady incessantly recited Lonely Planet in English.  She was reading it loud to her friends, page by page.  And they were heading to Borneo.  Where is Borneo I asked Cynthia.  Somewhere in Indonesia she replied.  Respect.

Before our plane landed in Frankfurt Airport, a stewardess announced that those who were heading to Singapore would be re-booked to Bangkok.  Worst still, this national flight would not have a gate for us to get off the plane and instead, we would be shuttled by a bus.

Everyone ran like crazy the moment the bus arrived at the terminal.  I guess there must of lots travellers taking connecting flights.  Flights are so connected, now I know.  Any delay in one flight triggers a whole new set of trouble for the downstream connections.  Mind boggling to even think of the people involved to deal with this day in day out, all the travellers and luggage affected, and the travel insurance claiming process that follows.

We dashed out of the gate expecting that someone from Lufthansa would guide us on our next step.  None.  So we ran and ran, towards the gate that was departing for Singapore.  Hardly a breath I have, I asked Cynthia what the rationale is to run to a gate that would be closed very soon, that our luggage were still in another plane.  “Don’t think, just run,” she said.  This Amazing Race was for real.  We did want to go home as planned.

So I ran, and walked, ran, and walked for what appeared like an eternity.  I really should have physically trained for this trip.  By the time we arrived at the gate, a short stern looking Lufthansa officer told us that we were re-booked to Bangkok based on the ‘next available flight’ policy.  We didn’t want to go to Bangkok and take a Thai Airway to Singapore!  “There must be another option,” I asked in desperation.  “Yes, Singapore Airline.  But it has departed just 1 minute ago,” he shrugged.  Maybe it was German humor but I so didn’t get it.  Resigned to fate, I was looking at him printing two new boarding passes and torn them into pieces.  He printed another pair of boarding passes and again torn them into pieces.  All of a sudden, he slided our old boarding passes to his colleague who was furiously handling similar cases, worn his suit, together with his supervisor, and left his post.  They simply called it a day there and then.

Looking back, I tend to think that he was buying time for us to board the next direct flight with Qantas instead.  I tend to think that all people are good in nature.  While waiting for our surprisingly lengthy paperwork to be completed, we made friend with a Spanish couple and had a chat with an Indonesia family.  And I chatted with those who were left behind.  You would be surprised that some of them would have missed their flight had I not chatted with them.  “You are heading to Bangkok?!  The gate is over there, not here, and it is closing!  Run!”  Looking back, I was quite relax the whole time and cracked a few jokes here and there.  Like how much I love German sausages that even the stern looking German officer couldn’t resist to smile.

So we were issued a voucher to exchange for our boarding passes at the Qantas counter.  Where was it?  A different terminal he said.  Uh-huh.  I shook his hands thanking his help.  He smiled and waved goodbye while our Amazing Race continued.

The Spanish couple and us stuck together.  Picture this: a terminal like a ghost town.  All the gates were closed.  The security officers were packing their bags ready to go home and they didn’t even care if some unauthorized personnel were pacing around the terminal, or sleeping inside the terminal (that thought did cross my mind).  It was as though the moment their official hour was up, they just shut down and go home.  I love that work culture.

The direction was vague and there was no sign directing you from one terminal to another.  Twice we got lost.  We stopped a cleaner for direction.  We stopped a group of three officers heading home for direction.  “It’s a big airport and don’t get lost!” said one with a smile.  We have even found another officer standing inside a dark hall facing the gigantic window and we asked her for direction.  What was she waiting for?  I have no clue.  As I looked through the glass windows while four of us were running inside a dark corridor, I pointed at the moving monorail train outside and said, “Look, we should have taken that instead.”

We reached the Qantas counter and the charming Spanish couple and us continued our lively conversation exchanged contact information.  For a two hours difference between the Lufthansa flight that we were meant to take and the Qantas flight, we thought we had ample amount of time.  The paperwork surprisingly took a long, long time.  And there was a long, long queue.  It was as though this Qantas flight is collecting all the poor souls who have missed their connecting flights.

We barely made it but we did.  Hooray!  And this entry ought to end here.

But it doesn’t.

Singapore Lost and Found

When we stepped into the Lost and Found department at the Singapore Changi airport, someone was screaming at the officer.  Really screaming, calling names short of vulgarity.  He was an European with a foreign accent.  His partner was there too.  The yelling and screaming and the unreasonable demand just went on and on while I was logging a report as one of my three luggage was missing.  I wanted to tell him that these officers have nothing to do with his lost luggage.  I wanted to tell him that I too was tired after a long flight from the other side of the world.  I wanted to tell him to let the officers do their job they best in doing.  I wanted to tell him that in Singapore, you can trust our efficiency and integrity.  I wanted to tell him to stop yelling at my people in my country or feel free to leave my country right now.

But I didn’t.  As I had no idea why he was so angry.  I could guess but that’s not good enough.  Painfully I kept quiet while smiling at the officer who took care of my case and asked, “Do you get this kind of situation often?”  She smiled and said, “Yes, a couple of times a day.”  Wow, I respect them immensely for putting up with some of these unreasonable people on a daily basis.  How do they find the strength to go to work everyday?

We took a taxi with two luggage re-tagged with the “Rush” label to the Qantas flight.  We missed the luggage that we had lost.  Something of high sentimental value was inside.  Something of high monetary value was inside too.

Crashing My Own Gate

“Do you have my key?” asked Cynthia when we were inside the taxi just 1 km from our home.

Oh no!  Both of our set of keys were inside that one lost luggage!  I know what you are thinking.  Well, if not for my crazy third attempt to visit the Picasso Museum, I wouldn’t have checked in that luggage.  My intend was to travel light.  This is an Amazing Race.  Intuitively, I called my sister and my brother-in-law and got a number of a locksmith at my area.  With no disrespect to the locksmith profession, I have this crazy notion that all these locksmiths belong to a thief guild or something like that (too much computer gaming).  Basically, I was calling for help to pick my own locks, to break into my own home.  And these locksmiths work in an interesting network.  I called one and got a number for another locksmith.  I called the new number and got another one.  Finally one arrived to saw my padlock away and pick my front door lock.  It was an eye opening experience to see fire sparkle spraying everywhere as the electric saw met the pad lock.  And how easy it was to pick my front door lock.  For S$70, I was happy that I didn’t need to check into a love motel with Cynthia in Singapore.  It would have been an interesting experience though.

30 hours since I woke up on a Friday morning in Mallorca, I was dead tired.  As a ‘professional’ blogger, I published an entry I drafted on the plane.  Third draft in fact.  I rewrote that three times.  By then, Cynthia was ‘unconscious’ in the bed while I switched on the TV and watched the playback of the F1.  No, Button didn’t win.  What a disappointment.  What a crazy day.

The Next Day

The Airport called and told me that my lost luggage was found and it was on its way via Singapore Airline.  It would be delivered to my doorstep after it has cleared the custom (I love Singapore).  I bought a new padlock and it says: hardened – anti-sawing, anti-picking.  Do I really want one that is … that hard to break?!  And would we still fly Lufthansa or would we pay 50% extra for Singapore Airline direct flight?  Amazing Race is an unique experience that I don’t mind having once in my life.  Just once I hope.

And of course, I would write a letter to Lufthansa commenting on the unrealistic connecting flight timing and the need to upgrade their planes to the Asian standard – one that comes with in-flight entertainment, eye shade, toothbrush, toothpaste, and more.  By the way, Qantas appears to have improved a lot!  And I shall stop here before I turn this entry into the length of a novelette.

Wait, I still want to visit the Picasso Museum one day.  Maybe after we have toured the rest of Spain.  And the loop continues.

Every holiday is an unique journey.  Cliche as it sounds, it’s true.  It’s what one takes home from each journey that makes some journeys more memorable than others.  This trip to Spain is probably one of our more adventurous trips so far.  Not that we are a pair of adventurous travellers to start with.  But one that is enough for us to look back and have a good laugh on some of the silly things we did, shocking experiences we have encountered.  And etc.

I took more than 2,200 photos, afterI have deleted 20% of what I took on the fly.  Sometimes I wonder.  If we stitch up all the photos every human being has taken, the same monument taking in millions of different perspectives, along a time scale in continuum, under different lighting conditions, and etc., would that be a fair representation of  our modern history?  Too much Cubism in my head.  Thanks to the unending lineup of museums Spain has to offer.

We hardly plan our holiday to the minute details, like some do.  Not that we are so lazy that we just figure things out at the last minute, the absolute moment some decisions have to be made – though I must admit that there is some element of truth in it – to us, there are so much uncertainties and things that we don’t know about what we have yet to experience.  So, we research on our options such as where to stay, what to do, and we exercise our options as we journey.

So, what have I taken home from this trip?  I think I have got to know myself a bit better, know Cynthia a bit better.  Having some basic command of Spanish – however little it is – certainly makes our trip a lot more interesting.  We manage to decipher some basic words and signs and we learn along the way.  And I think I have lived in this region – unfortunately – long enough to look at the rest of the world with a certain lens, a certain set of assumptions.  It is good to be displaced out of the box during oversea trips, I think.  Keep observing, keep learning.

For those who are curious on what happened after we’ve landed in Barcelona (for we had no clue when we started our holiday), we did a semi-guided city tour and then rented a car to visit Valéncia, Toledo, and Madrid.  Then we ditched the car and did a self-guided tour within the capital of Spain.  Took a budget flight and visited the island resort of Mallorca.  Rented a car and toured around the island in our own pace.  On the way back, we stole some moments and revisited Barcelona again, briefly.  That pretty much sums up what we did.

Stay tuned for more sharing of photos and day-to-day journey.  I intend to publish an article every Sunday.  Hey, it’s good to be back.

Today is such a warm day and I wonder what the weather in Spain will be like.  Cynthia steamed hot buns this morning and we were sweating by the time we finished our breakfast ready to go to work.  Today is also the day that stands between where my routine work takes a pause and my 2 weeks block leave begins.  My 2 weeks block leave!  Frankly speaking, I don’t feel a thing right now.  Probably will be, once we have passed the immigration checkpoint tomorrow evening.  There is something magical about airports.  Travelers, transit passengers, strangers from all around the world, happy to visit a holiday location, sad to leave home for work, happy to return home for whatever reasons, there is this feeling of “point of no return”, “leaving all that behind” which make airports special.  Your loved ones pass that checkpoint and you have no clue when to meet again; the gate is closing and ready or not you have to board the plane now.  Ready or not!  I am having butterflies on my stomach thinking how unprepared I am for this trip to Spain. Not even my close to non-existence Spanish, which by the way I should have been revising hard, would save me.

I have thought long and hard on what to do with this website of mine during my 2 weeks of absence.  Intuitively, almost like a reflect action, I have – believe it or not – planned out what to publish for the month of June.  Three entries a week I have worked out the titles and what the contents will be.  Running a website is like running a magazine, except I don’t have bosses to report to and editors to tell me how badly I write or how I could and should improve.  Like my real work.  Year 2007, I have scheduled 10 entries in an attempt to keep my readers happy while I was away.  However, most who knew that I was away probably assumed that I would give blogging a rest.  When I returned, I chatted with some of my readers and they were surprised that my website kept churning out contents while I was holidaying somewhere away from home.

And through this process of thinking about it while not thinking about it, looking at the lesson learned in the year 2007, maybe it is a good idea to give blogging a rest and truly have a holiday without thinking about what my readers may comment, which I by the way would love to read and response.  That decision has certainly lifted a big task off my back.  I mean, writing 10 blog entries at one go is no easy feat.

So I have decided to write something the way I have always wanted to write: a mind dump.  Almost similar to an author’s note at the back of the book that most people would skip, that I often try to read and gain a certain idea of what the author is like in real life.  Like Piers Anthony, my favorite fantasy writer when I was young.  His books always end with a chapter on his real life chores, what he plans to do, the books in the making, his daughter (I think), amongst other frustration and rewards he gets.  These texts are certainly less entertaining than his stories but I think it is important to know the artist behind the art.  It enhances the art appreciation process.  That’s why I find reading the biography of Pink Floyd intriguing.  That’s why I have become an even more hardcore fan of Marilyn Mansion after watching him being interviewed by Michael Moore in the documentary “Bowling for Columbine”.  Behind the mask of bizarre make-up and shock lyrics is a man of decent intelligence.  Why blame the entertainer for the school shootout just because the shooter was listening to Marilyn Mansion when in the same day, Bush was dropping bombs in the Middle East killing innocents?  So he said.

By and large, I think I am a disciplined blogger.  I write consistently, in terms of timeline and in terms of tones and contents.  Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy reading some of my friends’ blogs that could begin – and possibly end with – I f**king hate myself or today or my work.  That kind of raw emotion, so genuine, so expressive, and so entertaining in a weird sense.  Such class that I don’t have, that I wish to have.  If I was to write on that free form, self expressive genre, it could possibly be one of the most depressing thing you would read online.  Not all have that class.  Those who have are a joy to read.  Not only from the entertainment point of view, but also to genuinely care of that someone who may have gone through a not so great day, or a not so great episode in life.

Maybe it is also because negativity does not dwell on me or grow on me for long.  I could think of a thousand words entry on “I get burned for caring too much” – a would have been suited title for today – but as soon as my thought solidifies into words, the thought dissipates and there are no more words.  I am a disciplined blogger because by and large I have a certain pattern to follow, however diverse the topics it may seem.  There is a soft word limit of 400.  And there is a harder word limit of 500 except key reviews that can run into 1,500 words.  Why 400?  I reckon typical readers only have a minute or so or less to spend on any one particular site so if I could, I would write my entries with a 200 words or less.  But I can’t.  I am a long winded boring guy.  I am not good at being concise.  That’s why I enjoy writing this entry right now.  Because I have made a point not to impose any word limit for this I-am-going-for-a-holiday-and-see-you-in-2-weeks-time entry.

In real life, I see being disciplined pays off.  Like Formula One, boring as it may seem (as I do know viewers who enjoy seeing car crash more than anything else), one key success factor of Jenson Button is to have the perfect execution lap after lap, race after race.  Each lap you only gain a fraction of a second.  That’s why in F1, there are over 60 laps to decide a winner.  The time difference between the first and the second car could well be in the region of 6 seconds.  The time difference between the second and third car could even be a lot lesser.  You do the mathematics and tell me how much time the race leader gains per lap against his closest competitor.  Whenever I am frustrated with my daily chores, I would think of Jenson Button, think of Jewel.  Jewel Kilcher’s first album “Pieces of You” went unnoticed when it was first released.  She then toured around the country, sleeping inside the tour bus, in order to reach as many listeners as possible.  One year later, more and more people requested her songs at the radio stations all over Amercia.  All of a sudden, her re-release album shot all the way to Billboard #1 and “You Were Meant For Me” seemed to have stayed at the peak for weeks.  Whenever I turned on the car radio back in the training days in US, “You Were Meant For Me” was playing on air.  Hard work and discipline pays off.

In real life, I am neither Jenson Button nor Jewel Kilcher.  In real life, Cynthia and I go through a different daily chore after work.  It is not a chore per se.  Just that at times, there is no instant gratification.  Otherwise, I wouldn’t have classified it that way.  Some young folks may think that massively multi-player online role playing game (MMORPG) is a new concept.  It is not.  In about 2 decades ago, I was into MUD (multi-user dungeon) – a real time virtual world that is text based, that demands your imagination as you navigate around the world.  You press the letter ‘n’ to go north and then a few line of description of the terrain appears that opens up options for your next course of action.  These days, the concept remains.  But with a more engaging graphical interface.  The experience is a lot more jaw dropping.  Who knows what 2030 will bring?

One friend of mine passed me a potential opportunity to be interviewed by Digital Life (one section of our local newspaper).  I responded the questions but my piece was not featured, which is kind of a relief looking back.  The article doesn’t have the depth that I would have expected.  Do I think that it is a social stigma to be known as a gamer?  I personally don’t see it that way.  But does World of Warcraft make a good business conversation?  I think not.  Paulo Coelho has shared with us an observation in his new book “The Winner Stands Alone”.  He said society will not fix the problem of workaholism.  Because unlike drug addiction, workaholism increases productivity and propels the society forward, at a cost.  Most people, he mentioned, who are putting in a lot of extra hours into their work ignoring other aspects of life, they don’t admit that they are workaholic.  Deep inside, we all know that our partners would like us to have more time with them; deep inside, we all know that we are trading time for money; deep inside, we all know that we have a choice.

So, where do games like World of Warcraft fit in?  It doesn’t increase productivity for sure.  Neither are the hours you sit in front of your television.  Some are able to moderate the time in gaming, some are not.  Is being a gamer a social stigma?  For your information, there are studies that reveal the positive effects of gaming.  For your information, gamers who shoot good guys or bad guys, monsters or zombies in the virtual worlds do not go around gunning down everyone in the neighborhood.  But like Paulo Coelho said, people are more interested in news rather than information.  Positive effects of gaming don’t make good news pieces.  That couple who left their baby at home dead because they were playing World of Warcraft inside an Internet café makes great news item.  Divorced fathers being able to keep in touch with their children inside the virtual world and be part of their childhood doesn’t make good story.  Negative behaviors spawned from within the game does.

According to PC Gamer magazine (March edition 2009), there are currently 11 million World of Warcraft subscribers.  Each subscriber pays USD 15 per month to play.  The total running cost since 2004 is USD 200 million.  That may sound a lot but having a monthly revenue of USD 165 million only based on monthly subscription excluding merchandise and additional services, I reckon this game is a commercial success in a phenomenon scale.  On the day when the latest expansion was out, 1,944 copies (USD 40 each) were sold every minute.

Cynthia and I have been progressing pretty well in the World of Warcraft.  Successful is probably a wrong choice of word.  To be meaningful in the game, it is not only about mastering the game mechanism, which on its own, it is mathematically complex (click here if you are curious and don’t miss the graphs towards the bottom of the page).  It requires you to have a grasp on economy (everyone in the game knows that we need to transform time and effort into virtual currency).  It requires you to build a good network for the collaboration effort within the game.  It requires you to do virtual daily chores and above all, a deep knowledge on the vast game content.  Some are fun, some are just repetitive.  But the carrot is always there at the end of the stick.  As of today, both Cynthia and my characters are riding a dragon or two, getting exalted in a good number of fractions, almost epically geared, tearing heroic dungeons one after another, and we do it day in, day out.

Potential social stigma aside, both Cynthia and I as a result of that game spend much time together, almost every evening (with moderation).  We laughed at each other, screamed at each other, sitting right next to each other on different computers.  Think of it like a nightly basketball game with your partner, or a nightly game of bridge.  We now have our own private jokes and references whenever we talk about something, something even as trivial as our holiday planning.

High level holiday planning I meant.  We know we will be landing in Barcelona.  We know where we will stay for the first three nights.  What’s after?  I will tell you when we are back in two weeks’ time.  Have a good one.

You know what it is like when you come face to face with a reality that is so absurd, so out of what you have experienced thus far and you ponder upon the numerous possibilities, for many days and years, in an attempt to seek out the truth.  But the truth is it could be due to something so very obvious, like I finally discovered why I am getting electric shock while playing guitar; or in the absence of an imminent repetitive pattern, it would simply remain as a mystery.  Like that one morning I woke up, I discovered a dead roach beheaded on my kitchen floor.

I don’t sleepwalk; I flee when I see roaches; and I kill them with my can of insecticide spray.  I don’t execute roaches, like that one aunt I knew who would pick up a huge live roach with her bare hand, over the toilet bowl she would tear it into two pieces swiftly and flush the parts down.  That decades old image has lived with me for ages.  And dare I say, for many years to come.

Monday morning started as uneventful as ever till I saw a dead roach on the floor, while I was boiling water for our coffee.  First I felt relieved.  Because it was dead.  Then I noticed something bizarre.  Its head was separated from its body for a good distance, both upside down, covered with ants.  What could possibly behead the roach?  Do roaches get into fight and tear each other’s heads off? Was it attacked by a home lizard?  Or was it disassembled by the ants for easy transportation?  Did It fall down from the ceiling and broke its neck, literally so much so that its head fell off?

A dead beheaded roach that set my imagination ran wild.

When Cynthia stepped into the kitchen, for her cup of coffee, while I was ironing my shirt, I shared with her my bizarre observation.  “It was roach vampire,” she said casually.  “Like a vamp-roach?” I exclaimed.  “Like in the movie Blood, its head got exploded by a vampire hunter,” she replied calmly as she carried her breakfast leaving the kitchen and headed to the living room ready to start the day with today’s paper.  The visual image and the countless possibilities that overcharged my brain didn’t seem to bother her.

“Did you throw it away?” Cynthia asked with her eyes and thought glued to today’s paper.  “Yes, both the head and the body,” I replied as I dipped deeper into my pool of imagination on the endless possibility of a roach beheaded.

Could it be …

One thing cool about holding a phone that is yet to be out in the market is that it does get people around me excited (thank you LG).  And it is my curiosity on what others think of a new phone that is more than anything else.  The same way that I am sharing my exciting new toy with my friends in real life, here is my little journal on my experience with LG Viewty Smart GC900 thus far.

First Impression

Throughout my interesting albeit rather young career as a ‘phone previewer’, I have come across all sorts of people who have a diverse opinion of what works for them.  Maybe it is how LG markets their products, I often associate LG with sleek and fashionable design.  And this is exactly what my first impression of LG Viewty Smart is, consistent with those whom I have passed the phone for a brief hands-on experience.  LG Viewty Smart does feel very light, and slim.  Turn over to the back and it’s a silver metal-like cover that resembles a typical point-and-shoot camera.

A Decent Camera Phone

LG Viewty Smart GC900 is essentially a decent camera phone.  I don’t believe that high mega pixels implies quality.  Nevertheless, this phone comes with a 8 mega pixels sensor.  I have tested the phone in different lighting conditions and compared the results directly with the phones I have.  I am pleasantly surprised with the outcome.  It has a ISO range of 100 to 1600 and I reckon that’s why this phone performs pretty well even in low light condition.

Packaged with the camera is a set of software that helps to edit the photos from within the phone.  You can adjust the color, contrast, brightness, and etc. manually or automatically.  You can also add spices to your photos such as raindrop effect, fog effect, morph effect, a bunch of others.  I know Cynthia loves to do weird creative stuff to the photos she takes whenever she feels bored waiting for me.  These sort of in-camera edit functions may appeal to some.

Unique to this phone is a “Intelligent Shot” scene recognition mode that you can select.  What it does – and you can see the little bars on the screen in real time – is that based on the live image, it analyses the scene and tells you what it thinks the scene is.  It detects face, lighting condition (including back light), and background scenery and – I suppose – shot the picture with the most ideal setting.  By and large it seems to work.  My only thought is that it would be nice to have this as the default rather than the “Auto” mode so that I don’t need to go through the menu items and select this all the time.

I have also tried out the “Panorama Shot” that combines 3 photos into 1.  Each time a photo is taken, it shows the edge of the previous frame in shadow mode for easy matching.  That helps a lot in trying to create a meaningful panorama shot.  It doesn’t seem to stitch up perfectly though.  Maybe it’s just my skill.  But it does open up fun possibilities.

When I met my sister for lunch and showed her the phone, we tried out the “Smile Shot” mode.  Though we couldn’t quite get that to work, we had quite a good laugh over it.  We frowned at the camera expected it not to fire.  The shutter didn’t fire.  Then we smiled expect it to fire.  The shutter still didn’t fire.  And we exploded into real big laughter thinking that should do the job.  The shutter didn’t fire either.  After which our faces were frozen in weird stiff smile, the shutter fired.  Maybe it’s just the way we smile.  People in the restaurant must have thought that we are crazy.

Keeping things real, under certain condition, I do discover that this phone camera has quite a noticeable vignette and barrel effect (getting dark and distorted at the edges of the photo) compare with the phones I have.  White balancing – a feature available for manual adjustment – can be noticeably off in some rare circumstances.  Also, the auto-focusing seems to take a bit of time.  Going through the 3-level menu settings can also take a bit of time (click onto an icon, then spin the virtual wheel, finally scroll for the option you want).  I guess if you are used to this as your camera for convenience, you may find a way to adjust.  And I also realize that switching to different shooting modes may change the image size without you knowing it.  For example, pano shots will set the image size to the lowest.  Art shots to medium.  And you have to remember to reset it to the highest quality when you switch back to your normal shooting mode.  I ended up having quite a lot of photos shot in low quality over the weekend because I wasn’t aware of this feature.

Let’s not forget that LG Viewty Smart is still a phone before a camera.  From what I’ve seen, this phone does make taking photos fun, once you get used to the features that is.

User Interface and Touchscreen

LG Viewty Smart GC900 uses the new 3D S-Class User Interface.  It has a very high eye candy factor.  I’ve shown this phone to those who have used the Apple iPhone and they immediately feel at home.  You can spin the home page like a 4-sided cube.  One for favorite applications, one for favorite contacts, one for favorite multimedia, and the last one is a homepage that has the clock and quick access to call history, messaging, email, and voice mail.  One friend of mine finds that the icons are a bit too small compares to iPhone.  I fnd these animated icons pretty.

In terms of responsiveness, some find it comparable to iPhone, some find it a bit slow.  I think it all comes down to (1) the pace you use the phone and (2) how you use the touchscreen technology.  If you are ADD like me who tend to keep pressing that mouse button when the operating system is not responding well, you may encounter some lag effect when using this phone.  I have seen friends who are calmer than me and the phone works fine for them.

My sister Lora shared with me one thing when I showed her the phone: There are (at least) two types of touchscreen technology.  One requires the body contact, and another senses contact by any foreign object (such as stylus or finger nail).  The new Nokia touchscreen phones are, for example, using physical contact technology.  It works with your fingernails and hence, you can command your phone using either your thumbs or forefingers even if you have long fingernails.  This new LG phone, however, requires body contact (preferably your fingertips).  So if you are a thumb user like me or a nail user like my sister, it does take a while to adapt.  I have seen some girls with small fingers and short nails, they breeze through this phone like a pro.  And by the way, you can zoom in and out of photos and web pages like an Apple iPhone (using two fingers to ‘open up’ the image).  Some find eye candy features like this as well as phone design justify the relatively less responsive messaging mechanism (iPhone is a good example).  It is entirely your preference.

One final point to mention with regards to the user interface is that in order to switch from one application to another, you have to quit the current one first and open up another.  I am more used to being able to toggle through opened applications within my phones.  But it is merely a matter of preference as I have no clue how many phones out there enable the application toggling function and whether or not you need it.

Other Noteworthy Mention

I am a gamer and I find some of the games that come with the phone are outrageously hilarious.  And they are very pretty too.  One throws a pair of dice by shaking the phone.  Whenever Cynthia and I can’t decide on the options, I would take out the LG phone and say: odd number we do this, even number we do that.  There is one game that you have to ‘blow’ to the phone and some bubbles will appear (I am sure you have played this game when you were young blowing soap bubbles with a lollipop like stick dipped in soap).  You then move the bubble around using your finger in order to release the star inside.  Silly I know but Lora and I had such a good laugh blowing into the phone.

Talking about silliness, nothing beats this game that has a very pretty heart shape candle.  Touch onto the wick and the candle is lit up with a very life-like flame.  I guess you could turn that on in one of those concerts waving that in the air with thousands of others (who may be holding a lit-up Zippo lighter instead).  Or you could hand that over to your loved one and say happy anniversary?  Maybe that is what Korean romance is like.  The cool thing – still silly as hell but who cares? – is that you can blow into the phone and if you blow hard enough, the flame will be gone.  You can then … erm … start the whole process again.  Like I did (did I mention that I am ADD?)

Conclusion

A very sleek and fashionable design with the user interface as eye-candy as the phone itself.  It takes decent picture as a phone and the video captured looks good too.  This is a simple to use phone with basic functionalities.  Whether or not it is intuitive enough for you, I recommend giving it a try to see if it’s your cup of tea.

Below is a photo sample taking somewhere … erm … near my workplace using this LG phone.  As it is, without edit.

What more could I ask for?  My favorite Korean actress Jun Ji-hyun from my favorite movie “My Sassy Girl” is going to the heroine killing off waves after waves of demons slash vampires slash unholy creatures and save the … OK, I don’t quite know what she is saving for.  It’s Jun Ji-hyun.  Who cares about the story?

Apparently, TK from our Movie Review Squad cares.  He shook his head in dismay as the end credit rolled and said, “I don’t like it”.  Cynthia and I love the Buffy kind of one girl against all.  So we love “Blood The Last Vampire”.

I suspect the original Japanese Anime may be of a higher value in originality, from what I’ve read.  Some scenes of “Blood” reminds me of the movie “Underworld”.  It’s not one of those typical vampire series.  Saya – the main character played by Jun – looks 100% human except her eyes turn red when I suppose she is getting a power booster?  The absence of romance makes “Blood” unique from other vampire series.  And instead, the deepening of friendship between the 400 years old half human half vampire Saya and another girl is kind of … hot.

I wish “Blood” was shot entirely in Japanese with a Japanese casting.  A filming team from what appears as China and Argentina making a Western movie leaves much room to desire for.  Having said that, Jun Ji-hyun’s (or Gianna Jun as her new screen name) English is pretty convincing.  Venturing into a relatively hardcore action role – knowing how tough it must have been – is an amiable effort.  The ending may seem strange to some.  To someone who loves Wuxia type of Chinese novels, this type of heroine saving the … whatever worth fighting for is certainly my cup of tea.

Yes, “Blood” is a rather bloody film to watch.  It is because in the original story, those self-healing demons – Chiroptera – can only be killed by causing them to lose a large amount of blood with one attack.  There you go.  The lore of “Blood” in a nutshell.

Traditionally, the month of June has been quite a busy month of birthday celebration.  Since the advent of the Internet Era – where social email has decimated snail mail, e-card has decimated postcard – it is a rarity that a birthday party invitation card has arrived at my (real) mailbox that I check infrequently.  Like once a month.  The most amazing thing is – venue aside – this invitation was sent to me like months in advance.  That beats all the wedding invitation cards I have received so far.  I felt honored to be invited.  And I volunteered to be the birthday photographer.  While one friend of mine shared with me – jokingly or seriously I cannot tell – he is taking the taxi exam just in case he loses his job, I could be a birthday photographer.  That is even a more awesome career than a wedding photographer.  Most couple only has one wedding in their lifetime.  But everybody has a birthday to celebrate once a year.  You may laugh at me now.  When I do become one of the most sought after birthday photographer in Singapore, you will see me riding my dream Lamborghini down the beautiful street of Orchard.

Maybe I shall not stop at just that.  Maybe I shall become an anniversary photographer, you-and-your-pet photographer, you-and-your-lover-in-your-intimate-moments photographer.  What a lovely exit from my current nine-to-five.

No, I won’t showcase my work here because in the business of birthday photography, better be discreet.  Unless you – fortunately or unfortunately depending on how you see it – are part of my family (my band included), you could well become a semi-public figure.  One friend once asked: I was in the Hong Kong Airport and guess who I saw?  Who, I asked.  Your sister, she answered.

Some share with me that they find it hard to develop deep friendship with those whom they work with, compare with those whom they studied with.  My response would be: It all depends on you.  I am blessed with some of my great friends whom I met at work.  And to the birthday girl, have a great celebration tomorrow.  The photos should be inside your (read) mailbox any time from now.  Snail mail is an amazing thing, isn’t it?

Let’s get the fundamental right: in the world of human versus machine, Terminator franchise lies somewhere between the extremes of Robocop and The Matrix.  We guys love to watch Robocop with our girlfriends at our basements because with such a boring storyline, making out seems like the next best thing to do (it’s an open secret in the guy’s world, trust me).  The Matrix is probably somewhere at the pinnacle of this alternative universe.  Embedded inside are the elements of religion, philosophy, and the interdependency between the human and the machine.  The lore of Terminator puzzles me.  Human creates the machine to wipe off the human species?  And some time in the distant future when the machine is losing, they send in the Terminators to time travel and kill off key human rebels in an attempt to alter the future?   Why don’t the future human species send in assassins to time travel to the past and kill off those scientists that created the concept of Terminator once and for all?

I didn’t have much expectation on Terminator Salvation.  I have missed the one with the naked female Terminator fallen from the sky (censorship in Singapore put me off so I skipped it).  And the overall review of Salvation is merely average.  But since the rest of the Movie Review Squad is keen, I went along with an open mind.

Does great effect make a great movie?  Some don’t think so.  I have got to say, Terminator Salvation does have some really awesome computer generated effect.  The storyline may be predictable, not so memorable, but I was thoroughly entertained by the waves of machines after machines.  At some point, I thought I was watching Transformer.  At another point, I thought I was playing the computer game Supreme Commander.  This movie answers one of my top ten questions of all time: Does Christian Bale talk like that because he was acting as Batman or does he talk like that in real person?  At some point, I thought I was watching Batman.

While Helena Bonham Carter is still as creepy as ever, we all agree that Sam Worthington is one fine actor.  I would argue that he acts better than Christian Bale, who is doing pretty good for his role.  Not a classic movie, but entertaining nonetheless.