Thursday, October 28, 2010

One-Way Communication

My Dad has just spent the last few days in and out of hospital because of chest pains. The ECGs and the blood tests have been found to be 'ok' but/so the doctors think that there may be symptoms of a mild stroke.

He did not tell my sis or me anything about it until we saw the plasters on his hand from where blood was extracted for the tests. Said he, "Unlike all of you, I know how to take care of myself. See? I go to the hospital myself and do not trouble anybody."

As he was irritated and a little animated, I did not want to argue further. But I think what he is doing is the anithesis of taking care of one's self. To me, when you have an ailment, you attend to it immediately. And you let those who are close to you in on it so that they can help - maybe no one in your immediate circle is an expert but they may know others who are. Or they may know other avenues by which help could be sought. And if they do not know maybe they can make arrangements or tailor their actions to create an environment condusive for recovery. If anything, it is better, I think, to let people know early rather than drop a bombshell later.

Taking care of yourself is not smoking 10-20 cigarettes a day despite your age and health problems, falling ill and then picking up the pieces yourself. Taking care of yourself is letting your immediate circle know early so that everybody can work together to solve the problem.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Chick Magnet - My Pussy

I have always known myself not to have been bequeathed the most asthetically pleasing attributes nor Adonis-like features which induce second looks (and sometimes more than that).

Nonetheless, I have always lived in grateful awareness of what I do have - and the things going for me. But what took the cake was when my friend said this to me a few days ago...

"You know, you're not the most attractive person but yes, we can head off to your place for a while tonight, because I cannot resist stroking your Pussy behind a closed door".

So, here's to you, my beloved Pussy.






Actually, I must confess I have two pussies.





But my friends seem to unanimously favour the brown one. Do people generally prefer brown pussies over black ones? Or is it because the brown one is friendlier. Yes, methinks people prefer friendly pussies over unfriendly ones.

Principles of Legal Writing

Hello everybody, my brief re-flirtation with my legal roots has got me all excited. Today, I would like to share with you the basic skills required to be a lawyer. I would like to share with you an excerpt from one of the highly recommended texts, Still the Official Lawyer's Handbook, by Daniel R. White.

1. Never use one word when ten will do.

2. Never use a small word where a big one will do.

3. Never use a simple statement where it appears that one of substantially greater complexity will achieve comparable goals.

4. Never use English where Latin, mutatis mutandis, will do

5. Qualify virtually everything

6. Do not be embarrassed about repeating yourself

7. Do not be embarrassed about repeating yourself

8. Worry about the difference between "which" and "that"

9. Never refer to your opponents "arguments" - he makes only "assertions", and his assertions are always "bald".

10. If a lay person can read a document from beginning to end without falling asleep, it needs work

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Vow... To Myself...

300 days of this year have passed...

65 more to go. In certain ways I am thankful for what providence has thrown to me, in others, unhappy. For the most part however, I think life has been fair - Life has not been good. But that is only because I got what I deserved.

So, and I pray I can hold true to it, I am going to live the last 65 days of the year differently so that when the report card for 2010 comes around, it will state for the record that this year was a 'Pass'...

Monday, October 25, 2010

Holding Court Once More... For A Day...

"I'll see you in Court!!!"

This oft-used catch-phrase in the movies was for the greater part of my working life a matter-of-factly statement describing the location of my next meeting with a client, friend or opponent.

And then one day, it all suddenly ended. One moment, I was busy attending applications, hearings, preparing for trial, always on the move geographically. The next, I was a sedentary, desk-bound office executive, a victim (or beneficiary) of my abrupt decision to seek a change of surroundings.

For a while today, I got to relive my former life as I headed to the Supreme Court to oversee a trial in which my company had an interest.

The premises as usual looked serene and peaceful when I walked in early in the morning. I had always found it deceptive that, what with its quiet ambience and soft-lighting, this relatively new building could be the battleground where some of the most acrimonious disputes in the land came to be resolved, a place where lives were changed and sometimes taken away.

It did not take long for the tranquil feeling to be forcefully dissipated, as lawyers
arrived in their unvarying black and whites, first in a trickle, then in droves. Many of my friends have told me that they could never be anything else but a litigator, for where else would one get the adrenaline rush (err.. Casino, turf club, roller coaster ride, rock concert?) and the intensity (err... football match, argument with spouse?) of a cut-and-thrust battle of wits and wills?

I remember the adrenaline rush, all right. For all the times that I had stayed up the night before to prepare for a hearing, I never once felt sleepy or tired while waiting for my turn to appear before the judge or registrar (though Red Bull and its heavy nicotinamide content - the equivalent of 4 cigarettes I have been told - might have had something to do with that). But that is where the similarities end. Where my more 'adversarial' friends felt anticipative excitement, I only tasted bile and felt an impending sense of dread or doom, depending on the strength of my case. Where so many of my counterparts couldn't wait to show the world how the logic of their case was incontrovertible, I always feared that my poor, innocent client (who of course was so clearly in the right) would lose his because I would forget to make an important submission or could not respond quickly enough to a witness's diabolical reply.

Watching the legal eagles surge through the metal detectors armed with their court bags, stuffed no doubt with Bundles of Authorities (or Documents or Pleadings and/or Affidavits), I began to feel the nervous tension synonymous with 'trial-day' all over again. And then I just as quickly remembered that I was no longer one of them - a realization that was nostalgia tinged with relief and regret in equal measure.

You see, unlike what many of my closest friends might think, I always enjoyed being a lawyer and yes, I thought that it was a noble profession. It sounds corny, but I always found it fascinating to study and analyze the pillars which underpinned, and the boundaries which defined, the rights of every man and how they balanced and interacted with those of another. These are things that one only gets to do on a regular basis as a litigator.

Only problem was - I did not enjoy articulating my arguments under pressure, faced with a (yeah, must be so...)misguided opponent, his stupid witness on the stand and a judge who just would not understand how watertight my argument was (yeah, that must have been the reason why I even lost any case at all. Yeah!). But more seriously, trial advocacy, while not as crucial in Singapore as, say, in the States, remains a hallmark of a good litigator - a glib tongue is still what the man in the street expects when he hears the word "lawyer". And I'm not saying I was bad at advocacy. I'm just saying that I did not enjoy it.

When, while still an undergraduate, I was taking a part-time course in Mass Communications, an American lecturer, when told that I had held back in making a comment, asked me how I was to become a good lawyer that way. I wanted to reply that in Singapore, we are taught as lawyers that it is good to speak well but absolutely imperative that we think soundly (even if it means not speaking) while in the States, they have perhaps got it in reverse. But I thought better of it and held my counsel.

I do not deny that the importance of tone, inflection and/or conviction in one's voice, the ability to think on one's feet and/or to make pithy comments in a Court hearing can make or break one's case. But I do wonder whether it is sometimes scary that hugely important decisions are made on the basis of questions asked and answered under intense pressure.

That is why I have always enjoyed making my arguments in writing, when one is allowed time to sit back and organize one's thoughts and where likewise, the reader is afforded the luxury of more than just a few fleeting moments to form an impression, and then to weigh all the countervailing arguments. As is the case with speaking, good language and clever use of words are powerful weapons when it comes to writing. The difference, I have often felt, is that writing reflects much more one's ability to present arguments after considerable thought whereas trial advocacy tests one's ability to effectively make those same arguments in a short space of time.

I'm not making any judgment as to which method of persuasion is better but it is obvious which I feel am more adept at. It is also clear that I like writing. I hope you like my writing too.

Friday, October 22, 2010

Two-Way Communication

Most of the time at work, the torpor and ennui that starts to percolate in small amounts at the beginning of the day becomes an overwhelming deluge by mid-afternoon. The tide is sometimes stemmed by a call to my fellow 'in-houser', Jac. Don't know why, but I found the last conversation kind of funny in an understated kind of way...

Jac: Oh hello..Wait.. What the f*&#!
Me: Eh?
Jac: Stuff just landed on my table. Do you know my company's adopting a cotton tree in the zoo?
Me: Cool. I guess you can make your own uniforms from now on-
Jac: And in the Bird Park, we're adopting a spiked Hornbill...
Me: Hey I like hornbills. I think they're cute-
Jac: And I have to go through all the adoption documents!
Me: There was actually a hornbill tour when I went to Sabah this year. Should have gone...
Jac: Why do we adopt shit like this?
Me: The proboscis monkey in Sabah is the best though...
Jac: And why are there so many documents for this stupid tree? Hey, my boss is calling.
Me: Mine's only looking. But we should go. Thanks for talking to me.
Jac: No problem. Bye.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

What's In A Name?

Was just recalling a scene from Chestnuts when they did a spoof of Riis Low's (imaginary or otherwise) sister.

Qn:- So what's your name?
Ans:- Ivory. My Chinese name is Ah Q so my full name is Low Ah Q. Ivory Low Ah Q...

That memory aside, it made me think about how people, in order to differentiate themselves (I suppose), make slight modifications to some otherwise very common English names. I have seen names like Janyce (Janice), Charen (pronounced Karen) and any number of variarions of Jolin, Joline, Jolene or Jolyn.

I also have a friend called Karenina. She is always at great pains to explain that she gave herself that name not in a quest for uniqueness but because of inspiration derived from reading Leo Tolstoy's famous novel Anna Karenina. So, Karenina Chow she was for many years. By some cruel (or some say humorous twist of fate), she married some bloke called Edwin Bay and adopted his surname so Karenina Bay she is now. All those of you who still haven't got the nuance might want to imagine her being introduced to the audience by a fast-talking, slurry speaker at a Hokkien Gala dinner.

But I have to hand it to Karenina sometimes. She told me recently that she thought it more appropriate to add her maiden surname to her husband's. So she asked me which I thought sounded better: Chow-Bay or Bay-Chow. Definitely Chow-Bay, I told her. "But why?", Sze Wai (that's her Chinese name) asked. "You tell me, Mrs Karenina Bay-Chow Sze Wai", I replied.

The Freedom Of (and to) Love

I was speaking to a friend who recently agreed to a marriage proposal.

"I actually wanted more time to think about it," she said. "But he was so insistent. He said that he loves me so much that he is so terrified that I would run away if given too much time. That was what made me so touched - how much he needed me - and that was what made me finally say 'Yes'"

She then asked me if I agreed that her fiance's words were touching. I told her I didn't think they were and that on the contrary, they revealed a desperation bordering on selfishness. She thought I was crazy. I didn't reply. But I now explain myself.

If ever my fiancee told me that she was not sure about us being together forever, I would, I hope, find it in myself to give her all the time and space she needed to make up her mind without any pressure or guilt. Indeed, quite the contrary to my friend's fiance, I would be terrified if my girl found it hard to run away even though she wanted to.

While that might seem counter-intuitive, I have always believed that I could never be happy if the people closest to me were unhappy. And as such, if my girlfriend felt compelled to stay with me even though part of her wanted to run away, it follows that neither of us would truly be happy.

Perhaps I'm being naive but I still believe that in this world of abject practicality, some idealism must persist. I still believe that true love is freedom and not an encumbrance; that a true commitment is forged when two parties choose each other in spite of an abundance of other possibilities/alternatives, and not because of the lack thereof.

Many of my friends have opined that some amount of possessiveness is necessary to let the other person know he or she means a lot and that letting someone go just because he or she has lingering doubts betrays a certain lack of conviction towards the relationship. That's where I disagree. You see, while I would give my undecided fiancee every opportunity to 'run away', I would do everything in my power to give her every reason to choose not to. Because when we come to think of it, isn't the value of life found in the collective sum of choices that we, and those around us, make?

What is more, I believe that the quest to continuously give our partners reasons to love us is a perpetual endeavour willingly (but not necessarily consciously) undertaken and borne out of nothing more than a desire to see him or her happy, as opposed to a duty that ceases once the prize is snared.

Above all, I believe that the feeling present when two people who love each other choose to be together no matter what is one that cannot adequately be described in words. It is for that reason, the desire to wake up everyday smug in the knowledge that someone unconditionally loves me, that I could never artificially encumber someone to myself.

I hope one day to choose and be chosen by someone special. Till then, I will give myself and those around me the freedom to find out about ourselves and what we really want.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Singapore F1 GP

The Singapore F1 GP, in recent years, has played a significant part in my life, causing major arterial roads and pedestrian walkways to be blocked and in turn substantially increasing my travelling time to work. I take this opportunity to thank my very understanding bosses, who despite being leading insurance professionals, often allow me a very liberal interpretation of the term force majeure.

But that is not why I make this post. Due to improved macro-economic factors as well as improved fiscal discipline, I decided this year to -ahem- splurge on two Walkabout tickets for the F1 Practice Session, seeing that it was my best friend's birthday as well.

In fact, it was all a very fortuitous chain of events which made that possible - a sudden intuitive urge to check the Singapore GP website for any last minute tickets (even though tickets had officially sold out days ago, plus the fact that I was on leave, meant that I had both the opportunity and time to queue for 2 hours at Raffles City in order to get last minute tickets.

So after a simple dinner, we were all set - and prepared - to take on the world's fastest land-based machines...






The anticipation in the air was tangible and although the crowds, and the fact that our ticket passes were the lowest in the hierarchy, meant that we could not get a clear view of the cars, the atmosphere and surrounding scenery more than justified the ticket price.

There was of course no lack of memorabilia being sold at more than a slight mark-up...




Sideshows and exhibits to keep the throngs happy, like this vintage car collection...





And high-tech contraptions, like this giant screen, to ensure unaggresive and/or short people would not miss any of the action...




But for me, just being able to walk in the centre of the normally busy Esplanade Bridge underneath a clear sky with the stunningly lit-up Marina Bay Sands as a back-drop was enough to take the cake.



With that in mind, I was thus a little amused when my friend insisted on spending the majority of the night trying to take pictures of the cars speeding down the track with her pint-sized digital camera.






I cannot but chuckle when I see how most of her shots turned out...





I mean, why try so hard to catch what would surely, if you are lucky, turn out to be fuzzy blobs when you can watch that in luxury at home or download far sharper pictures on the internet. Shouldn't and wouldn't our time be better spent soaking in the atmosphere - and taking pictures like this?...



Enough said...

Chestnuts!!!

In September, I went to watch the comedy-musical Chestnuts. Chestnuts is a play which recaps the major events and highpoints of the year that has just passed. In it, actors sing, spoof and poke fun at headline-grabbers all throughout the world, though there is naturally a focus on events close to the hearts of Singaporeans.

I thought I was going to break new ground this year - indeed I was determined that, having watched Chestnuts in 2008 and 2009 and being so thoroughly awed that I watched both editions TWICE, this would be the year when I watched it only ONCE. I was wrong... This was how the conversation with Jac went a day after I watched Chestnuts the first time this year....

*Ring ring...*
Jac:- Hello. How are you?
Me:- (In a serious tone)Jac. You know I've never begged you before. I'm going to now.
Jac:- Oh my God. It's money right? You had a bad quarrel? Problem at work? I think it's money. How much do you need?
Me:- Far worse. I know you said you do not like plays. But please. I'm begging you - I watched Chestnuts yesterday. It's so good if you watch it I think you'll watch every year.
Jac:- (Mightily relieved at not being pecuniarily affected)Ok, but only because you begged me.

I reproduced the conversation because Jac had been steadfastly refusing my entreaties to watch Chestnuts since 2008 and it was only by having her believe that a catastrophe of seismic proportions had taken place that she agreed to go watch with me - more out of relief than anything else. I dare say, however, that she will watch the next edition on her own volition.




This is a picture of me at the intermission. It is by far not the most flattering shot you could get of me but I think it is an apt advertisement for the show, which runs yearly.



Unlike so many plays where the actors are inaccessible, for Chestnuts, all the cast stayed back after the show and mingled freely with the audience. I was very happy to get a picture with Jonathan Lim, one of the actors and the one who wrote a lot of the songs and script. This guy's crazy but so brilliant.



I also managed to get a picture (on the second day) with Judee Tan and Dwayne Lau, who were no less spectacular. Pity about the picture quality though (blame Jac!)

Macau-Hong Kong Double-Bill -HK

Some of you may later ask why there are so few pictures from the second part of my journey. The reason is because I lost my lap-top soon after we arrived at the Grand Hyatt Hong Kong. CCTV later showed that the bell-boy inadvertently left my lap-top bag in the boot of the taxi. When the police contacted the taxi driver however, he said he could not find anything. Just swell.

When I did get over it the next day, I found it in myself to take some pictures of the International Finance Centre as well as the shopping complexes at Causeway Bay. Nothing off the beaten track admittedly, and probably familiar to most who have been to Hong Kong.





Lunch at Soho was a bit more interesting however... It was at a gourmet burger joint, where I ordered the biggest, meatiest burger for size... I had trouble finishing it, but I'm sure the two mutts which I later saw having their Sunday walk would not have found it challenging....





This nifty contraption is what accompanies you while you wait for your burger to be processed. When your order is ready, it lights up and vibrates!



And this be my burger meal...



Just before I left for Singapore, I had some time to burn so headed for Citygate at Tung Chung, since it is so close to the airport. It contains a discount outlet for just about every well-known brand which you could name in Hong Kong. I know more than one girl who would go absolutely batty over there...




I spent a bit more time photographing at the Burberry's outlet because one of my best friends is a big fan. I was just about to snap a picture of a row of shoes which would surely have gotten her excited when the manager came running out from a hidden alcove, gesticulating and yelling that I was not supposed to take pictures. Oh well.. You can't be too careful nowadays. As part of my diabolical plan, I was so going to sell their top secret shoe formula to their hated competitors...




Casino Review - City of Dreams In Macau

I had intended to do a 'Casino-Hop' in Macau, going from one Casino to another but the lack of time, my Dad's late arrival from Singapore and the heat put paid to that. So I only tried out the nearest Casino - the City of Dreams near the Hyatt Hotel.

The gaming area was spacious and well-designed, with there being a competent blonde group of dancers doing various numbers on stage - quite good for people who need a muse, some distraction or an opportunity to rest their eyes (to a limited extent, I suppose, cos some of the girls were gorgeous). Obviously, I couldn't take pictures so you have to take my word for it....




The gaming was fine. The City of Dreams has the usual glut of jackpot machines as well as more than ample table games, the most popular of which are the usual suspects - Sic Bo (Da-Xiao or Big-Small) and Baccarat.

The tables are not too crowded and you do not need to push your way past a horde of people in order to place your bet. There is however, sufficient volume, and, at least for Baccarat, the games develop quickly enough for those who choose not to play at every opportunity but prefer instead to wait for a 'desirable' pattern to emerge.

The croupiers are adept and competent generally, which means that payouts are made quickly and correctly (those of you who know what I am talking about thus far will no doubt be familiar with novice dealers who sometimes take an age to deal cards and calculate winnings), leaving err...investors to concentrate on... investing. The investors I encountered were generally polite and did not complain when I leveraged on their bets to surmount the Minimum Bet threshold.

As I generally do not like... investing during holidays, I played just a few games to get a feel of the place, made 100HK (for those of you who like to skim-read, it's 100HK, not 100k - please breathe), and then went off to walk around the nearby environs...



Friday, October 15, 2010

Macau-Hong Kong Double-Bill - Macau

All right. I know you people are asking why I need to go to Hong Kong so often. As I have repeatedly stated, it has to do with an incredible feeling which infused me with a thirst for life when I first set foot there in 2008. Maybe it had really more to do with the circumstances then, but part of me wants to believe that it was the place. So there.

Besides, I had one free night's stay at a Hyatt Hotel which I had to use up before the end of August and the Grand Hyatt Hong Kong was as good a place as any to spend a weekend sojourn. And as further justification, I was going this time with my Dad, he who toiled for more than three decades to bring me up and who, although semi-retired, to this day still does most of the cooking and laundry. A free trip for him is thus hardly an adequate show of filial piety.

My Dad's presence however, did have a heavy bearing as to where we went. You see, I originally hoped to go to Shenzhen for the cheap and good food before drifting down to Hong Kong but my Dad favoured the...investment opportunities that nestled in Macau so oh well... Filial piety right?

Only problem was that by the time it was confirmed that my Dad was coming, I had already booked my flight for Hong Kong. No problem though, nothing modern transportation and a little planning couldn't solve. So after touching down in Hong Kong, it was a quick transfer to the airport ferry service to Macau. Haven't they thought everything through?





For some inexplicable reason, there was a thick haze pervading Macau that day. But all the same, the Macau city skyline beckoned invitingly.




There is a real surfeit of top-class hotels in Macau and that fact is not lost on the traveller the minute he disembarks...



But I had already pre-booked my hotel - the Grand Hyatt Macau at the 'City of Dreams'. Bonus loyalty points, see? Here are some shots of the place as well as the hotel room.








For dinner, we when to Rua da Cunha (Guan Ye Jie in Chinese) for mixed shark's fin and seafood soup. The taste was above average but the ingredients were plentiful, with there being a real surfeit of seafood and shark's fin.

We also had high quality bird's nest. The texture was a little to fine and the taste a little underwhelming for me but my Dad says that this is the mark of top bird's nest so who am I to argue with the old man?