Category Archives: Silly Me

Hard Disk On Fire!

10 Replies

PS. Thanks for your messages through Facebook, SMS, IM, and even phone calls.  Miraculously, my computer is still alive and kicking.  I will try to address all your questions at one go.  This post also serves as a community reminder that a computer is an electronic appliance that if left unattended can be a fire hazard.

Today I work from home.  In fact, the doctor asked me to rest for two days.  But since the supposed drowsy medicine has yet to knock me off my feet and since workload is manageable, why not respond to work related queries while recovering from my flu?

This morning, the air conditioning was off.  Because the weather was (and still is) nice and cool.  And if this global cooling is to continue, I fully embrace the change with open arms.  This morning, while working with my desktop, I detected some burning smell.  Our condominium is currently under another round of renovation so I thought the smell came from outside.  Soon, I saw smoke rising from between my legs!  White dense smoke.  I thought to myself, “Woah, this is no good!”  I bent down like Beckham, relying on my then semi-defunct olfactory capability (due to semi-blocked nose) to sniff out where the problem lied.  It is a jungle down there.  I have so many wires and transformers and since my computer was still working, it did not occur to me that my computer was on fire.

But it was.

Besides the fancy blue neon light emitting from the fans of my computer, through the transparent panel, I saw a burning flame!  Like a tea-light you see on the table when you take out your partner for a romantic dinner, except, the flame was upside down.  It was surreal.  Something was burning inside my computer but it was still working.  Like a beast that suddenly sensed real danger, my heartbeat went up.  The first thing I did was to properly shutdown my computer.  And then I thought, “This is taking too long!”  I switched off the main power (in retrospect, that should have been the first thing I did but hey, aren’t we all programmed to shutdown the computer properly since the good old days of Windows 95?), tried my best to take out the screws of the casing in record time, and when I came face to face with the naked flame, I give it a huge blow.  Fortunately it went off on first attempt.  When I took out the hard disk – with my oven glove – I saw a charred body as seen in the photo above.  Bones would have loved to see it.  You can’t quite see clearly in this picture.  Half of the disk was burned.  Miraculously, the rest of my computer seems to be working fine.  I have my data resided in a Network Attached Server (like a home file server) as well as a hot backup external hard disk, so I was not that concerned about the loss of data.  However, the thought of a computer catching fire is scary.

I am not sure how many of you have this habit of leaving your computer on, unattended.  I certain do.  But I don’t think I will any more.

*     *     *     *     *

Here are the answers to some of the frequently asked questions.

Has this happened to you before?

Not exactly.  But one time, I saw sparks coming from the computer’s transformer, smelt the smoke.  The power was tripped and there was no fire.

Do you have a surge protected power extension?

Yes I do.

Was there lightning?

The sky was bright.  Only after the fire incident, raindrops started falling from the sky moaning over the death of my hard disk.

Were you gaming?

Oh please.  I was working from home, nursing my mild flu!

Have you called an electrician to check the power usage?

I took one of my friends’ suggestion and called for our in-house “electrician” or rather our condo’s handy man.  Mind you, he was the one who dug his entire arm into one of our drainage pipes and fished out debris when the pipe was blocked.  A very hands-on man, I must say.  He did some very basic inspection and concluded that since the power was not tripped, the fire incident is an isolated problem.

How many hard disks have you stacked together?

Three in total.  In retrospect, I could have spread the disks further apart.  It is one lesson learned.

How was the airflow inside your computer?

6 fans are still in working condition, including the blue neon light coming from the fans.

What brand is the hard disk?

Western Digital.  Not sure if it has to do with the brand.  If so, I am in deep yogurt because all my hard disks are made by WD.

What have you learned from this incident?

Technology hates me.  Time and time again.

Seat “Chopping” And A Non-Existence Bazooka Lens

30 Replies

A quick doodle

Two unrelated stories to share here.  One from Cynthia.  One from me.

What is seat chopping?  For those who live in Singapore, we all know what this means.  For my overseas readers, no, we don’t literally chop seats here.  We simply don’t chop anything in Singapore.  Not even the trees.  We move or relocate the trees along the highway when we have the need to add an extra lane or two.

So what does “chop” mean in Singapore?  To be honest, I am not born and bred here.  The word’s origin to me is fuzzy.  I interpret the word or verb quote-unquote chop as “occupy or obtain ahead of one’s need while denying others of the resource or opportunity”.  A clumsy interpretation I admit.  But by now you should how clumsy I can be with words.

Monday afternoon, Cynthia met with her Indonesian girl friend from Bali and they have not met each other for more than a decade.  Under a hot sun, they walked from point A to point B.  The sun was so hot that it gave Cynthia a headache till the evening, as she recounted her afternoon story to me inside our car.  I do not know where point A was.  But point B was a food court at Tanjong Pagar, a location Cynthia seldom roams.  Lunch time near the city center, we know how crowded the eateries can be.  So while Cynthia queued up for food, her friend carrying tons of shopping bags was tasked to look for a table.

Cynthia’s friend has found a table in a nice and quiet area.  As Cynthia placed the food onto the table, she noticed a package of tissue paper as well as a fold up newspaper.  Too late to do anything now.  In Singapore, white collar workers often “chop” the seats with packets of tissue paper put onto the empty seats or tables.  After a seat is confirmed or reserved, they head out to look for food, queue up for food.  Personally, I do not do that, unless I am with a group of seat choppers.  I do not do that because by the time I look for food, queue up for food, get my food, one or two persons could have benefited from the seat.  Especially so for some of the more crowded eateries like Amoy Street Food Court.  The flip side is, by the time I get my food, I would be faced with a sea of tissue paper and empty seats reserved by the seat choppers.

Not long after Cynthia and her friend started eating their meal, a Singaporean woman came by the table taking back the package of tissue paper and the newspaper.  And she said, “Did you know that these seats are chop?  Are you new here?”  Cynthia was about to leave the table while her friend was reluctant to do likewise, imagine having to carry her shopping bags and her meal.  Cynthia’s friend replied with her Indonesian accent …

“No, I do not know.  I am from Indonesia.”  And she signaled to Cynthia and continued, “And she is not from Tanjong Pagar.”

Cynthia is not from Tanjong Pagar?!

I was laughing in tears when I heard Cynthia’s friend’s reply.  And so was she.

The Singaporean woman – friendly as it seemed – said, “It’s OK.  We have found another table.  Just to let you know, this is the culture here [in Singapore].”

Singapore culture?  Really?

PS. I have nothing against seat choppers.  Just so to let you know that I am still your friend.

*     *     *     *     *

Monday morning, my sister dropped me a message in Facebook asking me to check out her comment on one of my blog entries.  Lora had a phone conversation with our mom in Hong Kong.  She ended the message with: It is quite funny and I hope you won’t faint.

Rewind to a week or so ago, my mom called me on my home phone.  And she acted quite strange, repeatedly commenting on how expensive my lenses are.  She even threw in some numbers and I was shocked that she knew the price of camera gears.  The numbers did not seem right but I was not thinking much.  In fact, I confess that I was not 100% with the phone call.  I am a lousy person to have a meaningful phone conversation with.  My attention simply drifts before the first minute is up.

So I replied, “Well, these are quality lenses and the photographs look great, no?”  And my mother went on and on about how rich I have become.

Over the weekend, my mom called my sister and said, “You brother has bought a lens for S$20,000!”  I can imagine my sister was as shocked as I would have been had I pay attention to what my mom had said over the phone.  In my defence, my sister mentioned that it is not possible to spend that kind of money on camera gears.  My mom insisted that she has read it in my website, together with dad as the witness.

Uh-oh.  My parents are reading what I write here?  How?  They do not read English!

Apparently, technology is so advance these days that websites can be translated into another language on the fly.  But not so advance to accurately translate the meaning of I wish I have that bazooka lens that costs S$20,000.  This gives ‘lost in translation’ a whole new meaning.  If I have that kind of money to blow, my photograph of the moon would certainly look better than this.

The Stupid Things I Did At The Malaysian Custom

57 Replies

A supposed to be surprised MMS to Cynthia but the telecom network failed to deliver

You wouldn’t believe what I did at the Malaysian Custom last Friday.

When I was young and needed to travel overseas on my own, my dad always made sure that all the new items I carried across the border would have the original packaging removed.  Each and every item.  As I grow older, I deduce that if the items are for self use, it is OK to carry them over from one country to another.  Where does the line being drawn?  I have no clue.  I am sure travellers visit places overseas and buy souvenirs for friends.  Some are pretty big ticket items (like the Swiss watches).  Who would shop overseas and declare all their goods at the Custom and get themselves taxed?

Seriously?

Last Friday morning, as Cynthia left our home and headed to the airport, she smiled at me and said, “See you in Malaysia tonight!”  I smiled back and said, “No no no!  See you in Singapore next week!”.  The truth was, I did not give Cynthia a firm yes that I would drive all the way and visit her over the weekend.  Call it a semi-surprise visit or an internal struggle yet to be sorted out.  I hadn’t even packed my bag that early Friday morning.

I knew she has to work over the weekend and I have thousand and one things I could do in Singapore.  But then … why not make someone happy and besides, I always love a little adventure.  I had no idea where and how to get to PJ Hilton.

So I packed my bag in a hurry (still needed to go to work for half a day), brought along a new brainless book, grabbed my Spanish classical guitar, and … that should be enough to keep myself entertained.

Except, I had this sudden urge to attempt to write some songs during this road trip and I have stumbled upon a nice neat toy a while back that condenses the entire home recording studio into a hand-held device!  I just had to buy that before heading to Malaysia!

Fast forward to the Malaysian Custom, one friendly officer asked me to open the car boot and he pointed at my shopping bag and asked, “What is it inside?”

“Erm … it’s a recorder,” I replied gingerly and already cursing my own stupidity.

He took it out from my shopping bag and clearly had no idea what it was.  It is definitely not something you can commonly see in all good electronic stores.  Carrying with him my brand new toy, he consulted his group of officers (must be like 6 or 7 of them gathering by the desk … very intimidating!)

“You need a permit for this,” he smiled.

In any other given days, I would have loved his friendly smile.  I said, “I don’t understand.  It is just a recorder.  More like a MP3 player!”

“I know, I know!  Well, you will need a permit in order to bring this into Malaysia.  But I shall tax you instead.  It is much better that way,” he said.

“Tax me?!  But it is for my own use!” I gently protested.

“Do you have a receipt?” he asked.

Now, how stupid I was?!  I could have said: no, but I remember it cost 10 bucks.  Instead, I passed him the receipt.  He took out a calculator, punched in some numbers, and said, “The tax is 30% and that will be RM 175.”

I was nearly in tears!  I pleaded with him that I bought it just before lunch and I planned to use it to record my guitar this evening (I didn’t dare to show him my mint condition S$1,500 guitar at the back seat that has a receipt inside … the best place to keep a receipt is with the item itself, no?).  I even tried to strike up a conversation with him on music.  To tell you the truth, he must be the most sympathetic and friendly Malaysian Custom officer I have ever met.

After much deliberation with all sort of analogies I could think of (he was very patience too!), he did not bulge and kept telling me that he was just doing his job.  Reluctantly, I took out my wallet ready to hand him RM 175.  He was taken aback and said, “Don’t you want a receipt?  You have to pay the tax over there.”  He pointed at somewhere far.

That’s it.  I wasn’t going to walk!  It would be a walk of shame!  And I would be haunted by this stupid moment of mine for the rest of my life!  I counter suggested that I should just throw away the packaging right here right now.  He was shocked slightly and smile, “Sorry Sir, I have already seen the box!”

“But it doesn’t matter!  I will rip the box apart.  And you won’t see it again!  Besides, I wouldn’t be able to sell that in Malaysia right?” I insisted.  OK, my heart would bleed because I do keep all my toys inside the original packages all the time.  But between RM 175 and heart pain, I would choose the latter.

As I attempted to take the box from his hand, he stopped me and said, “Let me ask my supervisor.”

The supervisor looked really cold and stern.  Actually he did look very scary.  I was not sure if I could muster enough courage to face him.

The officer presented my case.  the supervisor kept quiet at first and then let out one command in Malay.  He didn’t even bother to look at me!  The officer returned and asked, “What passport are you holding?”

Huh?!  Now only you ask that from me?!

“Singaporean passport!” I held my breath.

“Next time, please don’t do that again,” he said.  I was in such a relief that I even shook his hands!

Gosh, isn’t that a bit out of proportion?!  30% tax?!  For something that I actually use.  Lesson learned.  Always listen to what daddy say.  He has more grey hair than me for a reason.

Plan B – Celebrating CNY In Singapore

9 Replies

NTUC at AMK Hub

OK.  Don’t panic.  It is not as though I have not celebrated Chinese New Year in Singapore before.  Like that one year I had to hunt for oranges at the very last minute after discovering that it is the tradition here to pass the oranges around.  Or that year … erm … to be honest, I don’t recall that many times I have spent the holiday in Singapore.  Last year, Cynthia and I were in Melbourne.  The year before we were in Hong Kong.  This year, since our plan A road trip to Malaysia doesn’t work out, time to execute plan B.

I pulled out a large piece of paper this morning and pondered what I needed to do next.  I wrote down: spring cleaning, red couplets (揮春) for decoration and good luck, and stocking up the refrigerator.  Since I have already done spring cleaning prior to Cynthia’s mother arrival, that is one headache off my list.  I stared at ‘red couplets’ and since Cynthia planned to visit Chinatown with her mother in the morning, I delegated this wonderful task to her.  Except she can’t read nor speak Chinese at all.

First, Cynthia sent me a picture of a rat in cartoon format via MMS and asked if I wanted it.  I repeated that I only wanted either one single character (I wrote the word 福 that means ‘luck’ to her beforehand) or pairs of 4 characters.  Then came the 2nd MMS with tons of red couplets.  Bingo!  Another headache’s down.

I was pretty relax over the last item until I started to hear from my friends at my workplace all the horror stories of last minute grocery shopping in Singapore.  No way I am going to starve myself over the CNY!  Besides, I so planned to make the best out of plan A and cook some delicious dishes for Cynthia and her mother.  I even planned to invite my sister over for the first time ever brother-and-sister bonding over CNY here in Singapore!  This is big, so big that I must have sounded pretty stressed up until my friend ST kept reminding me to relax and don’t get stress.

This afternoon, on the way to the-mother-of-all-NTUC at AMK Hub, I have literally converted my car into a war-room not unlike what the US President does inside Air Force One.  I was shouting out the name of the dishes into the air and Cynthia captured a list of what we needed to buy on a piece of paper.  It has to be a decisive strike.  We have to know our exact targets and we have to … like Bush once said … smoke them out!

AMK Hub was packed with last minute shoppers.  As I saw trolleys full of NTUC bags leaving the hypermarket, I couldn’t help but to think-out-loud: there goes my chicken! There goes my vegetable!  And there goes my …  I was thinking out so loud that Cynthia has to calm me down.  My breathing went deeper, my heart beat faster, my head went lighter, and into the war zone we entered.

Inside NTUC was a total chaos.  Shoppers were grabbing everything they saw.  I went to the meat rack and there were only a few packets left.  When the meat trolley came out, I couldn’t bother to look at the list that was composed back at Air Force One.  I didn’t even care what sort of meat it was.  It was either pork belly or pork chop or nothing.  In any given day, I would not consider either.  Today, we fought for survival.  I went to the poultry section and must have grabbed the last few chickens left in Singapore.  Cynthia asked why I bought two chickens.  I replied, “Don’t think, just grab.”  I was not the only one who was going crazy, everyone was going crazy.  The last time I was having this euphoric feeling was inside the factory outlets in US.  I was going crazy with my friend grabbing all the clothes we could see.  I saw live fish inside the tank and I asked for one.  The reply was, “Sorry Sir, this section is closed and we are unable to have the fish cleaned and gutted for you.  Do you still want one?”  I was stoned for a while with the scenes of me killing a fish running through my head again and again and I told Cynthia, “I know I can do it!”.  She reminded me that a live fish was not in our list.

I have bought a trolley full of stuffs that were not in our list!  Oh well, Cynthia was right.  We could do without a fish.

How could Cynthia be so calm?!

Gosh, I Could Fall In Love With Nokia Maps!

9 Replies

Nokia Maps

I admit that I am technologically declined. One day, my colleague SC looked at my new N95 8GB and asked if I have used the Nokia Maps. I said no and he exclaimed, “But that is why people spend so much money for such a phone!” He pointed out that our female colleague JL – who has the same phone as mine after I tempted her to trade in her brand new phone (I’m evil I know) – also don’t know how to use Nokia Maps and at the same time implied that I am a guy, I am suppose to know. Fine, know I shall.

I am notorious in harassing help desks. First with Singtel, then with Samsung. This time, I hassled the Nokia help desk.

First, I sent them an email asking how to download the maps and how to use the Nokia Maps in real life. They replied to me after a few days with an useful link and tips to get the GPS (global positioning system) to work. Unfortunately, I just couldn’t get it to work. So, I have decided to call the help desk instead.

Nokia: Press 1 for product and enhancement, press 2 for …

I pressed 1.

Nokia: Press 1 for product, press 2 for enhancement …

I was stuck. 1 or 2?! I pressed 1 and that was the wrong request. So I hang up and tried again. After a good 5 minutes or so, someone answered my call. After the usual greetings, he asked for my phone number. Didn’t I just key that in?! Oh well, be it as SingTel or Nokia, it is the same. I told him my problem …

Me: I pointed my phone at the open sky but there was no signal.
Nokia: You have to point it to a clear sky at a 45 degree.
Me: Yep. I did just that. Still no signal.
Nokia: Have you opened the keypad as the GPS sensor is at the bottom of your phone.
Me: Yep. But where exactly is it?
Nokia: Where your palm is.
Me: Is it the star key, or zero, or the hex key?
Nokia: The hex key.
Me: It is concealed ya? I can’t see the GPS sensor.
Nokia: It is concealed sir. You will not be able to see it.
Me: I swear I did that too but still no signal.

Then the shock came …

Nokia: For first time connection, it may take up to half an hour sir.
Me: Half an hour?!
Nokia: Yes sir.
Me: Half an hour pointing at the sky at 45 degree?!
Nokia: That’s correct sir.
Me: My hand will get cramp no?!
Nokia: (laugh) and you have to remain in the same place.
Me: I can’t move?
Nokia: It’s better not to move.
Me: I have to stay still, holding my phone with the keypad opened, pointing at a clear sky at 45 degree for up to half an hour?
Nokia: It is just for the first time sir.

I tried just that, near my office area. And I got the connection in less than 5 mins.

Hooray!

Nokia Maps is really neat. Today I needed to drop my friend at 52 Stirling Road. Even without the GPS connection, I was able to pinpoint where exactly it is. After that I needed to head to Katong Mall (to check out the plasma TVs). Within seconds, Nokia Maps gave me the information on how to drive from Stirling Road to Katong Mall. Cool thing! And the best thing is, it is free. I just need someone to read out loud the routing information to me (voice navigation comes with a price).

Though Nokia Maps gave me the instruction on how to get to Katong Mall, I have decided to take a different route (dumb eh?) and surprise, surprise, I got lost. I was in this road heading to a T-junction and I said to myself: left or right, left or right?! I whipped out my N95, desperate to know where exactly I was … and it took so long to connect! I literally have to stretch my arm and point the phone to a clear sky. I wonder if it is illegal in Singapore to have one hand on the phone trying to get a GPS position while I am driving (I was not “on” the phone!). At the last minute, as dramatic as Mission Impossible, I managed to locate where exactly I was and made the correct turn (see picture above). Phew!

Though it may have limited usage within Singapore for many of you (except me whom always managed to get lost), it could be quite a nice device when you travel overseas. All the maps are free to be downloaded from the Nokia site.