My official first day of work at my new office began with a 15 minutes drive from the city to Changi after dropping Cynthia off for work, which is not bad consider all things. Singapore is a small country. Distance is often measured by the number of traffic lights and junctions between the starting point and the destination. Unless you need to travel to and fro between Jurong and Changi – the two extreme ends of the west and of the east – or your destination is somewhere in the north called Woodland, time spent on the highways is often dwarfed by the stop-and-go on the small roads.
I choose exit 1 of East Coast Parkway to enter into Changi Business Park for this very reason – to minimize the number of traffic lights and junctions down to one. A little bit longer in distance but it is time saving, I reckon. Hypothetically speaking, if I was to miss the exit, I would end up in Changi Airport. Too bad. Our airport has little vegetarian dinning options. It would have been a decent hangout place for lunch. The malls, the pinnacle of our civilizations, the monuments of our modernity.
Away from town comes the benefit of open blue sky and the greenery. There is a manmade lake in the middle of the business park, a fountain in the middle of the lake, and center to this commercial establishment is “The Signature”. Opposite “The Signature” is my new office. A six-story high building awarded with an environmental green label. No, there are not enough parking slots for the staffs, as part of the deal. Going green means discouraging people from driving that in turn encouraging the same group of people to park a few blocks away, at the not very green buildings. And hence, in support of my company’s green initiative, I park two blocks away. A lovely 5 minutes walk, which is not bad.
Hot desk concept in most offices comes with the daily ritual of kneeing underneath the table, with our asses up in the air, crawling through the dirty carpet to plug our laptops into the mains, to find the network cables. Even as a guy, I feel embarrassed doing this. How a girl would feel, I wonder. Some offices have evolved into concealing the power and network supply inside the table top or by the cubicle wall. Still, it is often a mess trying to plug and pull the cables every day.
Pleasantly surprised I was on my first day at my new office to see the power supply at my arm’s length on my table. No more bending. No more having my ass up in the air. I was delighted to see the endless supply of green tea bags at the open pantry too. And a coffee machine with a bean grinder that I need to figure out how to use it. Day one, I could not find the water dispenser. One friendly colleague showed me that one of the faucets dispenses both hot and chilled filtered water. Not to be confused with the faucet for washing only. Day two, I noticed that there is a LED indicator on that special faucet that lights up when it is time to change the filter.
Friendly familiar faces, unfamiliar names. So many of us in this building. I think we need to wear name tags to work. I work on the third floor, the canteen is on the sixth floor. No more the need to get out of my office building for food. Less the pollution and direct sunlight, I reckon I will have better skin in the long run. At the India vegetarian counter, the friendly staff asked if I am a vegetarian. Perhaps it is uncommon to see a Chinese eating only vegetable. She said it is good for me. I think it is good for her too as her stall is the only vegetarian stall in the entire building. Oh yes. She will see me 225 days a year.
My official first day of work at my new office ended with a 5 minutes walk from my “green” building to my car park. I have spotted a small yellow butterfly dancing in between the green bushes. I stopped and admired a piece of nature that is considered as rare when one works in town. Consider all things, this is not bad.
I am a strong believer that it is important to be efficient in my daily routines. Imagine if on average, I save 10% of time doing the things I do, add that up to a lifetime worth of hours, how much time would I gain? That does not necessarily make me an impatient man. If I need to sit in front of the television to watch F1 live for two straight hours, I would. If I need to spend 15 minutes every morning to iron my shirt, I would. Having said that, I would prefer to time shift the F1 broadcast and skip the time wasting advertisement. Or to perfect the process of ironing taking into consideration of the potential interruption when my ironing schedule clashes with Cynthia’s breakfast preparation process (note: we have a small kitchen where we cook, prepare breakfast, and iron, amongst other things we do inside this tiny space).
This evening, after Cynthia and I had our vegetarian dinner, as we walked to the Spanish school for our class, I looked at my watch and it said ten to seven. I looked across the street and had an idea. This morning a receptionist from my clinic called and reminded me of my vaccination schedule. I had ten minutes to spare. How about …
So I dashed across the street, leaving Cynthia with our textbooks, crashed into the clinic and greeted by a group of foreigners at the registration counter. I quickly pulled out my pink IC, passed it to one of the receptionists with a strong sense of urgency and said, “I have a class at seven. So if you could kindly …”
I supposed I could have relaxed once I got into the doctor’s room. Instead, I blurted out loud, “I have a class at seven so if you could …” The doctor replied, “No problem. I will be very quick. And this may hurt!”
Uh-oh.
Ouch!
OK. It did hurt more than the last time. Efficiency does come with a price at times, I suppose. 7-minute was all it took for registration, getting an injection, to have a short chat with the friendly doctor on his recent trip to UK, the places he had visited, and to pay S$90 with NETS, say goodbye to the foreigners at the waiting area.
* * * * *
Back to the lovely photo above that inspires this blog entry, last weekend, we celebrated my niece Bethany’s 100th day birthday. Yes, I can always trust my sister to spot the most unusual day of significance for us to celebrate. I really love this picture. Recently I have changed my Facebook profile using a picture of mine laughing out loud as Bethany was placed onto my embrace on her 1 month birthday. Some friends of mine thought that the baby was mine and hence I looked so happy. Well, deep inside this very macho looking man is – believe it or not – someone who has a very sentimental heart. Now you know.
I have not seen Bethany for a while. Below are some random observations to share.
Bethany and I connect when I switch to Cantonese. She would smile, look at me, squeeze my fingers, when I speak Cantonese with her. How strange!
Bethany smells different from the last time I held her close, in a good way. I love her smell!
When Cynthia pinched me, Bethany would look unhappy. What a good niece. She should visit me more often. Watch out Cynthia!
We still have that effect to each other. When she looks at me, she falls asleep. When I look at her, I fall asleep.
I still think that her eyes lit up whenever I mention “Let’s go shopping at Orchard!”. Maybe I shall try again when she is older.
PS. Caption of the photo from left to right: Me, my niece Bethany, my sister Lora, and Cynthia. Photo taken by my brother-in-law Benny using my Nikon D700. Thanks Benny! I really love this photo you took for us!
Board games, do people play these any more these days? Computer games, console games, Facebook games – it seems to me that board games have faded into things of the past. We watch movies more often than watching plays on stage; listen to music from our sound system more than attending live performances. Think about how often we play board games these days. And how often would someone born today play board games as they grow up.
As often as we watch plays on stage, attend live performances, I guess.
In a way, looking at the generation I come from, I am straddled between a world of board games and a world of electronic games. When I was young, there was no such thing as computer games. I had boxes of board games and I love playing them. With whom? My dad seldom played games with me, except the Chinese strategy ones that I was no match to him. Still do not. My mother at times played dice throwing type of games with me, mainly because my sister was often too young to play with me. Four years of age gap, it means a lot in the realm of board gaming. To me that is. My sister was not buying it. Still does not I reckon.
Electronic game has its rich entertainment value. And in many instances, it is more convenience to play, has better variety, and can be played alone. Those seem to be what we value today. Even more so than not so many years ago.
Maybe it is not electronic games versus board games any more. Passive entertainments such as television channel surfing, YouTube surfing, Facebook surfing, have become favorite pastime for perhaps you and me?
Cynthia and I love road trips to destinations that have no or little television and Internet access. We often bring along Scrabble with us, something that can easily fit into the car. And we keep a score sheet for all the games we have played. With whom and where.
Speaking of games, over the weekend, I have attempted to design a game that is education in nature. Something to do with learning Spanish. I have tried to dig deep into my dusty closet where I have abandoned my computing skill not too long ago (I think one technology year is ten physical years). Creating an electronic game, something I could have done quite easily years ago, is a no go. Instead, I am thinking of creating a simple board game.
What would that look like? Nothing elaborate or ground breaking. I am badly in need of some motivation, something fun to practice my Spanish. Keeping it simple, so as to speak.
PS. Photos are taken on a 5 minutes interval while we were playing Scrabble inside one of the living rooms of Smokehouse hotel at Fraser’s Hill, Malaysia.
When resource becomes scarce is when our true color reveals, true or false? One can talk about the beauty of humanity when people are getting what the majority are having. But strange behaviors emerge when we have to compete, especially when the rules are not well established. What am I talking about? The stealing of parking lots.
Stealing?!
I first read that phrase on the front page of our national newspaper. Someone was stomped, accused of parking lot stealing, and has his or her face / car photographed and published on the Internet. What is Stomp? Quote unquote: Asia’s leading citizen-journalism website with user-generated material. The website can be found in here. Personally, I am not that into Stomp, as I have yet to be convinced that citizen-journalism has a consistent high quality that I can value when it comes to news reading. And if bloggers can be sued in Singapore for defamation, would stompers face the same risk? Or they have gained immunity because the pictures are hosted with our national newspaper in the Internet space? Whichever, I would rather not see my face featured in Stomp. That brings forth the second part of this entry.
* * * * *
Over the years, the shopping mall Thompson Plaza has retained its popularity, amongst the dwellers of the neighborhood, including my family. Over the years, car ownership in Singapore has increased. How I wish we could be like our neighboring country Malaysia that when the demand is up, a new mall can be built right next to the old one. Double the capacity, double the parking lots.
Parking in Thompson Plaza has become increasingly time consuming, especially during peak hours. Rather than going round and round inside the car park basement hoping to find an empty slot, I often wait patiently in one area for one. At times, there could be two or even three cars waiting in the same area. There is no first-come-first-serve when it comes to which of the cars in waiting get the first available lot. There is no clear demarcation of which are the lots belongs to which ‘waiting bay’. For me, I often give way to those who have come first, or those who are closer to the empty lot. Seldom do I confront other drivers unless it is an act of bully, which I have encountered several times in the past. I do not get out of the car and scream at other drivers like some do. I make sure that I drive into the lot before it is taken, if I feel that I have waited for my turn.
One fine day, as I was heading to my usual waiting area, inside the Thompson Plaza car park, I was stuck in a peculiar situation. Behind my car, one car was leaving the lot. In front of me, there was a car in waiting blocking my way. All that car needed to do was to move forward a little bit, let me pass, and take up the parking lot. My intend was to wait for another lot since someone was here before me.
All of a sudden, the car in front sped away, disappeared. And I was presented with an empty parking lot. I looked in front and there was no car waiting. I looked at the back and there was no car behind. I waited a bit, nothing happened. Naturally, I drove into the lot, and parked.
Out of nowhere, someone was honking furiously. I looked through the windscreen and saw a lady driver furiously screaming at me, rudely gesturing at me. Wow, what’s going on? It turns out that she was the driver in front of me and had – I suppose – decided to drive one big round through the car park in order to let me pass. I was not pleased with her attitude but surrendering the lot to her seemed like the right thing to do. And so I drove out of the parking lot and waited for another one.
Looking at the rear mirror, I could tell that she was still angry at me. A few days later, when I read the headline on the newspapers, I secretly hoped that it was not I who was stomped. If so, I may consider suing someone for defamation – for the fun of it since it seems like the in-thing to do in Singapore these days.
* * * * *
Near my home, there is a food center. At times, the parking lots can be fully occupied. One time, a small lorry drove past me who was in the waiting, did a U-turn, and there we were, facing each other, eying on the same set of lots. And I wondered: How is it going to be? Me or him?
As the story turned out, a lot became available near to the lorry. And I was expecting it to be taken, even though I had been waiting for quite a while. Just my luck. Some days you have it, some days don’t. Contrary to my expectation, the lorry driver hand-signalled me to take the lot instead. I was in gratitude, surprised – or rather grateful – that there is still beauty in humanity when resource seems scarce.
When asked what we do during Chinese New Year, I often begin the lengthy recount of our culture and tradition with a reunion dinner that happens during our Chinese New Year Eve period. Family members get together in a dinning table (or a dinning hall depending how big one’s family is) to celebrate and to catch up, especially with the elders of the family. How often do we get to meet our relatives?
A lot more often when we have a baby in the family.
Ever since my little niece Bethany landed on Earth, I see her mother – my sister – almost daily. And her daddy – my good buddy – too. Not only that, my mother has also decided to travel from Hong Kong and stay with Cynthia and I because of little Bethany. She is a little magnet that pull this small family together. I cannot remember when was the last time we have a reunion dinner together. It would be nice if my dad could travel to Singapore too. Perhaps when Bethany is old enough, we shall travel Hong Kong and celebrate our reunion in our birth town.
I often think that babies are sound polluting machines. Little Bethany seems calm and well-mannered when she is in my home, or in my car. Most of the time, she sleeps like a baby. She is a baby! This is her second long visit to where I live. And I have to admit, the more often I see her, the deeper bonding I am developing with her. Imagine parents who see and handle their babies every minute of their waking hours. That bonding must be strong. It is something that is hard to explain, best to experience.
Observing things that we do with Bethany, I ponder upon the necessity of daily routine act of affection with your loved ones. Something that we may have overlooked, something that may have been overwritten by other daily routines. As I was holding little Bethany in my arms, the first time after she was born, I could not help but to think …
… I reckon if she was to camp to my home for a few days, I could still play computer games while she is sleeping in my embrace. Her daddy Benny doesn’t seem to be convinced. I should do a live demo the next time they visit us.
Update: On the next day after this blog entry was published, on the same highway, similar location, similar timing, another motorcyclist was down, apparently hit by a car. Two lanes were closed. Tow truck, ambulance, police car were present. I saw bloodstained on a piece of white cloth.
I am much saddened today, or at least for a larger part of the day. As though I am lost in my own world, unable to articulate what borders me in exactitude. Nor do I have the means to pull myself out of this strange emotional distress. Like every other morning, here in Singapore, on a highway that is often jammed, one would wonder: what causes the jam? At times we see accident vehicles on the road shoulder. Or the yellow tow trucks in blinking yellow light; sometimes the police cars in blinking blue light; more often these days, ambulances in blinking red light. Or more likely so, we see no sign of incident by the time we get through the jam. It is just another day, on a busy highway, here in Singapore.
This morning, there was another jam on the highway. As I drove slowly on the fast lane, I saw a stationary vehicle on the middle lane. In front of that vehicle was a motorcyclist, lying on the ground beside his bike twitching in pain, under a bright hot sun. His helmet had landed on the far side of the fast lane. If my window was down, I would have heard him bellowing in pain. Such pain and my heart ached for him. Cynthia turned to me and asked, “Shall we call an ambulance?” The driver of the vehicle got out of his car, walking slowly towards the fallen motorcyclist. It must be a lot for him to take in. It must be a lot for all those who witnessed the aftermath to take in.
* * * * *
Many friends ask why I do not cycle in Singapore, especially those who know that I was once an avid cyclist in UK. The heat and humidity in Singapore is one. But that can be overcome. What deters me from cycling here is the fact that the roads in Singapore are not built with the cyclists in mind, the motorists in Singapore are not trained to take care of the cyclists on the road, and most cyclists in Singapore do not follow the basic safety code. I think some of my friends don’t buy my answer. And I wonder why. Being a living example does not mean that the circumstance is safe. It means that one is lucky.
But it is true. In UK, inside the main towns, it is not uncommon to see a narrow cyclist lane drawn between the pavement and the road for the motorists. Motorists often give a good margin when overtaking the cyclists. And the cyclists in UK signal by hands when changing lane, follow the traffic rule, do not cycle on the pavement meant for the pedestrians, do not cycle on the wrong side of the road, and they use a head light and a rear light when cycling at night.
Some ask, will I pick up cycling again when the construction of the round-the-country cycling lane is completed? If the cyclists are to cycle like how the motorists here drive (they are often the same people, are they not?), no thanks. I’d rather have other forms of exercise.
I am sad today perhaps because I cannot make this country a better place to drive, and to cycle.
I have finally realized what the phrase “sleep like a baby” means after spending much time watching my niece who does nothing but sleeps during my frequent visits. Or I think I have realized. She does nothing but sleep! And I want to be just like her. In fact, when I look at her not looking at me, that look of oh-happy-sleep, I too want to fall asleep. She could well be my lullaby. Benny – my sister’s husband a.k.a. the happy dad – shook his head and said, “You should see her cry at night, bro.” Such is the beauty of playing with other people’s babies. You don’t have to deal with the daily chores and yet, you get to adore the babies in their supreme cuteness.
* * I * *
Cynthia’s yoga teacher said that if we keep doing the same thing for 21 days, that will become a habit. I can’t say that visiting my niece often has become a habit, for she is less than 21 days old. But that concept is growing in me. Every time when my mother and I stepped into Benny and my sister Lora’s home, I would head straight to the living room, where my niece sleeps. And I would give her a little hug showering her with the words of adoration for a few good minutes.
Oops. I have forgotten to greet the other permanent residents of the house. How rude of me!
* * II * *
From an outsider point of view – which I once was – it is certainly strange for a group of grownups to gather together and comment on a newborn baby who is barely a few days’ old. What is there to talk about?
It turns out that there are a lot of things we can talk about. Below is a random list of topics.
Which baby’s feature or characteristic comes from which parent? And this could drag into a lengthy discussion. More often, grandparents have the final say.
Physical comparison against other babies in the family. So-and-so’s baby is born with more / less hair than yours (?!). So-and-so’s baby is born “taller” / “shorter” / lighter / heavier than yours (?!). I wonder if there is a strong correlation between the day you were born and how you would grow up to be – physically speaking.
My favorite observation is that my niece seems to have long fingers. So I reckon she could be a great pianist. I fancy this idea. My dream could come true to have someone in the family to play piano! A grand piano for her 18th birthday has crossed my mind. Benny and Lora, if you are reading this, you may need a bigger apartment to put that piano in the middle of your living room.
And of course if I could hear how she cries instead of seeing her sleeping all the time, perhaps I can assess if she has a potential to be a great singer too.
* * III * *
Little Bethany, if you are reading this in the future, I think I get to see your mother a lot more often than before. And that is a very good thing, of course.
Dad, if you are reading this, here is a picture of little Bethany in the cradle of her grandmother.
It was just yesterday, over our dining table, in the context of who has helped out during my sister’s pregnancy in what ways, we joked that Cynthia is now assigned to be our Chief Praying Officer. Yesterday I have also spent some time, with the happy expecting couple – Benny and Lora – and our mom arrived from Hong Kong, doing some last minute shopping. Perhaps, experiencing the miracle of life makes people radiate in the light of youth. That excitement, that power vested by the Giver of Life, as we took a slow walk from the AMK wet market to my car, I could not help but to admire this aura radiating from Benny and Lora, from a distance that is never too far away, only a footsteps behind.
The next time I see my sister, I may not be seeing her adorably round tummy, for she is now inside the delivery ward.
* * I * *
I reckon, for some of us, the first decision we have ever made was: When shall I get out of this womb? Unlike shipment and delivery of goods that we can call someone and ask and track and inquire when that something we have been expecting is due to arrive, babies come out as and when they have decided so. I have been trying to calm myself down because thinking of the uncertainty drives me crazy. Maybe today, maybe tomorrow. Maybe this hour, maybe the next. Mothers do not will the babies to come out; our biological mechanism only does so much in facilitating the child birth process; after exhausting all possibilities – given my limited brain capacity – I hence conclude that if indeed someone gets to decide when to come out of the womb and play, that has to be the little fellow inside the tummy.
The next time I celebrate my birthday, I will also make it a celebration of this very first decision I have made.
* * II * *
Tradition is perhaps one of the most valuable aspects of where we come from. Generations after generations, wisdom of lesson learned is passed onto, practiced upon. Like that tonic drink well known for the women to consume after the delivery of babies. For the longest history in time, I could not pinpoint why whenever I smell the fragrance of that tonic drink, I think of nothing but happiness. The missing key, it appears, is the duration of the preparation of this tonic drink.
Accordingly to my mom, which later on I realize that it is more of a Hong Kong tradition than a Singaporean one in terms of how this tonic drink is made, it takes days and months to prepare the soup base of that tonic drink. Large amount of fried ginger is soaked inside black sweet Chinese vinegar and this soup base is cooked intermittently for a long period of time. After the baby is delivered, this soup base is used to cook with pork trotters and boiled eggs in making that one tonic drink. And hence, I deduced that even when I was four years of age, given the long duration of the preparation, that scent of vinegar must have immortalized the happy moment of my little sister’s birth. That probably is why whenever I am in the proximity of such a tonic drink, inevitably, I feel happy.
Yesterday, mom has started the cooking process, of that tonic drink. Oh my. The strength of the scent of the vinegar, it hurts my eyes, it hurts my nose, and it hurts my brain. And yesterday was only day one.
* * III * *
Recent events prompt me to ponder upon how many people were involved to bring me to this world. As I was watching “Planet Earth”, the birth and the upbringing of the baby animals seem to be a lot more straightforward (OK, may not be the case of the penguins, come to think of it). Perhaps I shall also dedicate my birthday to those who made it happen, from now on.
Meanwhile, a little prayer for my little sister for a smooth and safe delivery. Healthy baby and healthy mom, I reckon, will make a lot of people very happy. Thank you God. I owe you one.
When I dreamed up my “do it now” theme for this new year, never has it crossed my mind that I would turn into a shopaholic on steroid. Though, come to think of it, these are merely a cascaded list of delayed decisions over the years that sooner or later, someone – by that I mean either Cynthia or I, or realistically, by that I mean I need to make some decisions. Get it over and done with so as to speak.
I had lunch with my rather well-to-do friend. And I was lamenting on things at home that have broken down, or are at the verge of breaking down, badly in need of a replacement. Like my two air conditioning units. His response was: Things that we want to replace don’t break down (like his 3 years old panel TV, he said) while things that we don’t, they do.
Very true. Like my 12 years old bulky color television.
Last week, Cynthia still asked why there was a need to replace our television in working condition. Yesterday, the reasons were all written on her face as she was glued in front of our new “investment”. My new investment.
* * I * *
I am happy that my oven is now working. Even though it feels a tad expensive to get it repaired, replaced with new parts. I am moderately happy with my computer’s new graphic card and a slight increase in screen size by two inches. Because the setup that I have replaced is not that bad, even in today’s standard. Of course, Cynthia is ecstatic with my old setup, for her computer.
My shopping spree like the storm and the wind does not stop there. Finally, I have replaced the temperamental decade old rice cooker with a modern one. My mother has warned me before she left Singapore last year: You better buy a new rice cooker before the next time I arrive. And she is due to touch down at the airport this evening. What happens to the old rice cooker? Well, at times we get an electric shock in contact, at times the rice cooker refuses to get turned off and we don’t even notice until we realize that the kitchen is getting too warm. Nothing serious really. I put up with that for years.
And finally, I have replaced my old television with a flat panel one, replaced my hard disk recorder and the digital set-up box with the Hubstation HD, and I have replaced my Pioneer DVD with a Pioneer Blu-Ray player.
Oh happy day.
* * II * *
I must be amongst the last batch of viewers in Singapore who write about high definition (HD) contents delivered via the cable. The picture quality is stunning. I am not a TV kind of guy and I find myself unable to my eyes off the animals on the Discovery channel. I don’t even know what I was watching, captivated by the images mainly. I have predicted that Cynthia would be glued in front of the TV once I proudly unveiled our – or rather my – new investment.
And I was right.
Within minutes, Cynthia has figured out how to record the channels, set up her favorite list, and etc. I knew I wouldn’t need to read the manual. I have a TV addict living under the same roof.
Except, one friend of ours refuses to classify Cynthia as one. An hour a day in front of a TV is far from being qualified as a TV addict.
Cynthia was furious.
Not!
* * III * *
Now that I am happily settled down with my new setup, I have become more furious with SingTel spoiling the party by tearing the sport channels away from Starhub. How nice if I could watch F1 later this March with my current setup, and World Cup for Cynthia. I am uncertain how are we going to fit another setup box into our living room. This morning, switching on my computer triggered a power failure. And I have to reroute the power cable of my plasma TV to another mains.
Although, if I was SingTel, I would have probably done the same. Starhub’s Hubstation HD setup box comes with free phone line and free Internet. And that is the bread and butter of SingTel. Offering television broadcast is merely a counter tactical move by SingTel that happens to upset a lot of people, unfortunately. From a long term perspective, I reckon SingTel will excel and more channels will be switched from the green camp (Starhub) to the red camp (SingTel). From a short term perspective, I don’t think people on the ground like you and I are able to see any significant benefit.
Duh!
* * IV * *
I am planning to get the Gossip Girl’s complete season 1 and 2 on DVD today, something I have been wanting to do for months. And I am also planning to get a Blu-Ray disc today, to satisfy my curious mind.
I remember what school holiday was like. Or to describe my current sentiment more correctly: these two weeks of annual leave reminds me of what school holiday was like. In UK, the school holiday is long, very long. Six weeks of break in between terms (we call them Michaelmas, Hilary, and Trinity), more than three months of break in between the years. Maybe school holiday is long, everywhere in the world. Since staying in the college added extra strain to my student loan for my university education, I often opted to visit my relatives in Paris, just across the English Channel (note: today I learn that the same arm is called differently by the French and the Dutch … of course!). Or to stay with my friends in London, which till today, I am still thankful of their hospitality whenever I think of the good-old-days.
In retrospect, I suppose I could have made my school holiday more productive. Like doing an internship, finding an opportunity to help out the faculty or the graduates who may need an assistant, or even picking a voluntary work to do. Holiday in Paris was often more productive, comparatively. I would soak in the local culture familiarizing myself with every corner of the street, every significant piece of artwork inside a museum that caught my eyes. Holiday in London was often more – for lack of a better word – laid-back.
What does laid-back mean? Depending on which camp you are in, if you think that laid-back is a negative attribute, especially in the context of a work environment, the opposite of laid-back would be driven, motivated, all the wonderful descriptions that are likely to earn you a good bonus. But if laid-back is to mean relax, the opposite would be tense, edgy, and uptight. All the negative attributes you probably would not want to see in your partner, or your pet. Having said it, it is about the context, isn’t it?
Progress and mass expectation is extrinsic. It is always good to positively contribute to the community, even if it is in the expense of your internal happiness and well being. Society does not reward you on how happy you are. It does however have a multitude of goods and services that you can purchase to make you a happier person. Feeling relax and happy is intrinsic. Something you have to generate from within. The best of it all is to find someone as laid-back as you, when you want to be. Imagine the otherwise.
* * I * *
This holiday, I have done something unconventional. I am often someone who is loyal to brands and shops and spends a great deal of time researching on products and pricing before making a purchase. Since Cynthia is not as insistence on an overseas holiday as she is used to be and since my sister’s baby may pop out any time soon, I am happy to laid-back at home, for the entire two weeks.
I know in certainty that Cynthia and I would spend much time playing an online computer game. And I know for a long time that upgrading Cynthia’s computer would vastly enhance her gaming experience, visually speaking. So I took something from my computer and planted it into hers. That works great for that one computer game that Cynthia plays. But what about me? I got myself a pretty decent video card and an even larger wide screen monitor. Decision was made on the spot. It was a cash transaction so you could say that it was a premeditated move.
Funny if I think about how laid-back I had been in making that purchase decision and now in a laid-back holiday, I tacked the situation with motivation and drive, as oppose to the laid-back philosophy. What’s going on here?
* * II * *
I look forward to a day when economists write a book on the online game World of Warcraft. Its success story is much to be learned by other corporations. It is amazing to see how Blizzard – the producer of the game – is able to constantly evolve the game and motivate the millions of subscribers to keep playing a game that is now more than five years old. Premium contents are continuously commodified, made accessible by the mass players who may not have as much time to invest as the hardcore players, as new premium contents are produced. That way, there is always a chance for the laid-back players to catch up and at the same time, a strong motivation for the hardcore players to reach new heights. On paper, that is an easy thing to say. Blizzard executes this vision flawlessly by making changes on different aspects of the game simultaneously so as to bring forth a holistic experience that does not feel patchy. Putting customers with different aspirations at the center. So easy to say, so hard to do it right.
We know that we manage what we measure. That is the foundation of the management tool called balanced scorecard: measuring performance by key indicators. Cynthia and I are fortunate to have Mark – not sure if his wife would think the same – to immerse in this online game in this laid-back holiday of ours. Last night, we have re-installed a gaming component that enables us to view our in-game performance in real time. All of a sudden, I observed that Cynthia has turned insanely competitive. Against me, in a cooperative mission, with a team of 5 against our adversities.
Huh?! What’s going on here?
With real time meter, she has turned into a committed player dishing out insane amount of damage against our common targets. I could not help but to peep onto her screen during our cooperative battle to see how I was doing in comparison. Why? Because she is tracking performance battle-by-battle while I am tracking how well we do by the sum of all battles. Her hunter beat my mage in both counters – hers and mine. And I conclude that tracking near-term targets yields a higher performance than tracking targets over a longer duration. An analogy would be if you have to clock in 40 hours of learning a year in your work, more likely so, you would defer your learning till the end of the year, which you may or may not be able to spend all that 40 hours. Setting a quarterly cumulative target would have yielded a better result.
Because we manage what we measure.
Back to last evening, I think I was the laid-back one. 4 in the morning and I was sleepy.
* * III * *
In a normal day, racing games are the least of my favorite. Because I suck so badly in this genre. Maybe I am simply not a good gamer. Maybe I am simply a laid-back gamer. I play games to experience something quite honestly speaking, if you seldom or have not played any computer game, you are missing an unique experience in life. An analogy would be you as a regular user of the Internet (which I presume you are since you are reading this) wonders what those people who have little or no exposure to the Internet would have missed. Cynthia’s mother from Indonesia was so amazed when she was with us in Singapore as she witnessed how McDonald’s breakfast can appear at our doorstep with a click of a button. That, to her, was an experience.
The game DiRT 2 comes with the video card that I have recently purchased. The delivery of the game is via STEAM – a service provider that streams games that you own into your computer via the Internet. That alone is an experience worth mentioning. Imagine no more game boxes that take up space (did I hear Cynthia cheering in the background?). OK. The download takes long. But the good thing is that you can re-download games that you own any time in the future and all the patches can be applied via the one source. Now, that is STEAM. But what about “Games for Window”?
The Microsoft initiative “Games for Window” has been around for ages. To be frank, I had no idea what difference does it make if I am to compare games that do not have “Games for Window” stickers to those that have. DiRT 2 is the first “Games for Window” game I have that saves my game progress into Microsoft gaming server, online. Combine that with STEAM, this is what the future of PC gaming should be like. As and when I upgrade my computer, all I need to do is to install STEAM, re-download my games in their latest versions, and pick up from where I have left off. No game boxes, no need to search for latest patches online, and no need to manually back up my game progress. Life is not only good, but great.
DiRT 2 is not only good, but great. One of the few games that utilizes the latest DirectX 11 graphics standard. And I have one of the few video cards today that support this new standard. Visually, the game is stunning. The dust, the water splashes, the smoke, and the day and night scenes. I suck at playing racing game. But once in a while, I am able to put up a heroic performance that involves teeth grinding overtaking moments, beautiful drifting in spacious corners, picking up from my mistake and fight back to the top of the grid. If only DiRT 2 allows us to upload our replay – which by the way, is very visually satisfying, realistically made – to YouTube for sharing, that would have been a dream comes true. For now, below is a video clip featuring Ken Block. And yes, it is that real.
* * IV * *
Computer gaming often delivers what we fantasize. It would not be a good game if it involves reading and replying emails, organizing and attending conference calls, like my real job. Space traveling is a different kind of fantasy. Unlike dragons and trolls that we know they do not exist, cars that we know exist but highly unlikely that we would be behind those wheels any time soon, anything to do with a probable future that involves space traveling has a certain charm. And that is the main reason why I enjoy playing Mass Effect. Therefore, I have decided to start all the way from the beginning even though I have lost my previous game progress when my hard disk crashed. Now, that would not be a problem had my game progress was saved online, would it? And since its sequel is due to be released early next year, in my mode of ‘laid-back-ness’, I better finish the game fast.
When Cynthia peeped at my screen one fine day, she commented that the game is like a movie, with dialogs and story development. Indeed, Mass Effect to me is like an interactive movie. An experience that is hard to describe (imagine how difficult it is to describe what Internet is and can do to those who have little exposure to the technology). Almost like directing your very own movie in your own home.
Back to the game, I have no clue how gamers can finish a game in 20 to 40 hours. I have no clue how anyone can finish any game these days. So many hours have been sunken into this game and I have yet to see the ending. That shows how laid-back I am with my gaming career.
Want to know what I am playing for? Below is the trailer of the sequel. Mouth watering. No less.
* * V * *
I reckon I can be an ambassador for PC gaming. And if you have the patience to read thus far, I have a message for you. Have a great New Year Eve celebration. Thank you for being with my site all these while and have a productive 2010, in a laid-back style.
PS. Of course, in this 2 weeks of laid-back holiday, beside computer gaming, we have also enjoyed watching the movies and dinning out. Come to think of it, just like how I spent my school holiday in London. Woot! I made it. This post has a word count of 2009!
