Saturday, February 28, 2009

The Upbeat Silver Generation

I was alarmed this afternoon when I saw the American Idol style of singing competition being brought right to the very heart of Singaporeans. And I’m not referring to Project Superstar, or Campus Superstar. What made this competition stand out and astonished me so was the participants.

One of them had parts of his hair coloured blue while many others had hair and outfits that shone! Okay, all the sequins and glitters they wore made them dazzle, but what really caught my eye wasn’t all these bling-blings. It was the attitude.

I don’t know who or how old the youngest contestant is, but I do know they’re all in their silver generation. Yes, I’m talking about a talent competition for the senior citizens of Singapore. Sweet, isn’t it?

And if I didn’t go to my grandmother’s house for lunch, I wouldn’t have had this chance to come across such a revelation.

The contestants frowned to the heart-wrenching lyrics, sashayed to the beat of the melody, and crooned the oldies with all their heart. The judges are mostly foreign to me, except for two of them. And when one of the judges actually sang impromptu, I caught myself in the nick of time to prevent falling over the sofa. I wasn’t prepared for such excellent singing. I mean, it had been soooo long since I’ve heard anyone sing like that!

They even have fan clubs! Mind you, don’t even start thinking a group of senior citizens sitting in the studio comfortably whose only way of cheering is tapping one hand against the other to create a sound that resembles clapping. They were fully armed – banners, words of encouragement and even cheering songs – you name it, they have it. Add some wolf whistling and they’re more than ready to challenge those Campus Superstar wannabes!

The energy these contestants displayed was indeed contagious. They are there not for fun, but for a very serious business – pursuing their dream. Isn’t that so amazing? I think the silver generation is just going to get hotter and hotter.

Are you ready for this? 

Friday, February 27, 2009

Cowboys, Meadows and Those Bells and Whistles Part 1

Cowboys, Meadows and Those Bells and Whistles Part 1

When nature calls, we try to answer them as fast as we can while we pray that nothing or no one would come in our way. Naturally, that means when we step into a public toilet, we dash into the nearest cubicle that is available, barring certain unsightly/smelly conditions that make it unusable, without letting go of the chance to steal a few glimpses of how we look at the mirror.  Oh, how vain we are, even in the midst of an urgent operation!

During one of my usual such “operations”, I was pleasantly surprised by what I saw. Behold! Look at this!

I stopped in my tracks and held my breath, mostly due to my being surprised and not due to any weird smells, as I looked on with my eyes wide open at this cowboy town that I was about to enter.

With cowboys like these to protect me, I know I’m safe from the cleaning aunty’s unexpected and unannounced barging in, even if I remain in the toilet for half an hour.

Oh, some were even fighting to see which hero would be protecting the damsel in bladder-stress!

But first, I needed to make up my mind which one is the door to the “treasure cove”.

Since all the gold nuggets were being laid out in the open in the treasure cove, who could blame me for conveniently tucking some into my bag, right? But, I soon realised that I wasn’t about to escape scot-free as I was about to leave the town.

I became a “Wanted” person! Look!

Gosh! If only I had known better… maybe I would have taken more gold nuggets, since I would be caught anyway!

That was one adventure, though unforeseen but pretty fulfilling I would say.

I put this incident behind my mind, thinking I would probably not come across anything like this for the next decade or so, considering the last time I stepped into this mall was like, what, 5 years ago? See, it was so long I can’t even remember!

Then, as fate would have it, within one month, I appeared at the same place again. This time, when I answered nature’s call, no cowboys were in sight to greet me.

Where have all the cowboys gone? 

Thursday, February 26, 2009

The Gift of Writing

The Gift of Writing

I didn’t used to think that I could have the gift of writing, until I met a guy recently. Talking to him was like transcending from reality to a fantasy world, a place where dreams come true and challenges shrink into specks of dust.

I felt good after that meeting.

Now, I may not be totally convinced that I have this gift of writing, but I certainly feel that the passion inside me is very much alive and burning. To me, when someone has a gift for something, it means that without any prior training or experience, that person can accomplish a task that might be almost impossible for another.

Do I fit this bill? At times I think I do, while other times I tend to suspect my ability. These other times are the times when my mind can be in a complete blank and I’m absolutely lost for ideas and inspirations. Without ideas, how do we have thoughts? Without thoughts, how do we feel? Without the emotions, how then do we craft sentences, which is, to write?

Then I told myself that ideas can be plucked from the sky. Indeed, who says we can’t! Though they might not be usable right away, but with some amount of polishing and honing, these ideas that sound outrageous at the beginning may eventually turn out to be a piece of brilliant literature.

So with this thought and belief, I begin to feel that what my friend said might be true after all.  Because I believe in the unrealistic means I believe that I can write something out of almost nothing. Now, this is something worth celebrating!

At the same time, I too recognise that there is ample room for me to improve, and I know I can’t afford to remain stagnant if writing is really the direction that I’m going towards.

We exchanged our virgin piece of published work with each other, and in his book for me he wrote that he found a “kindred soul” in me; while I wrote that I was glad to meet someone who has such a huge passion in writing.

Indeed, it’s good to meet a passionate writer. 

What is your passion in life? Mind sharing here with all of us?

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Valentine’s Day: before and after marriage

I have not finished eating all my love letters, pineapple tarts, kuehs and other Chinese New Year goodies. But I’m already running into posters in the malls screaming Valentine’s Day dinner specials.

Valentine’s Day is coming. Now, what?

I checked my husband’s schedule and realised he has scheduled a workshop that day. After that he flies to Malaysia for another work-filled Sunday morning. Are we celebrating this day after all?

“Aiyah! I thought at first we can celebrate at night after my workshop. The Sunday class wasn’t scheduled initially,” he explained when I asked why he would be planning for a class on Valentine’s Day itself.

When the Sunday class became a reality, he didn’t reject that. After all, it’s work, and that is important, right? Who cares about celebrating old Valentine who is nothing but crass commercialism?

But really, I’d have liked to spend time with him on that day.

Valentine used to be a day of special meaning now is now just “one of the days” when we give ourselves a good excuse to indulge. Was it marriage that changed me, or was I just getting immune to the lovey-doveys and romance, albeit with a hefty price tag?

When I was single, I remembered the girls in the office would wait expectantly to see if they received any flowers come February 14. In Hong Kong where I once worked, I was told there was an unspoken competition to see which girl’s desk has the most number of bouquets. This was an indication of the girl’s popularity and of course, looks.

I didn’t have flowers on my desk, but gave myself the excuse that I was a new-comer and few people knew me. Give me another year, and my desk would be overflowing with roses!

In my single days and very much available, I didn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day regularly. There would be Valentines when I was stuck at home with nothing to do, and there would be other years when I was swamped with gifts and invitations. Being swamped wasn’t good, either, as I felt stressed out, having to decide who to reject and who to go out with. But frankly, the feeling of having the special attention made up for the stress. It was a nice and warm feeling and a memory to cherish.

Then I got to know Stuart. Our first Valentine’s Day was also a last-mi9nute affair; yes, he was having class again on that day. But I got a gift from him!

As I looked on the participants in the class, I couldn’t help but wonder whether all of them were single and date-less? Or they just don’t fuss about this day and were more than glad to exchange the celebration for 8 hours of learning and self-improvement. 

When we got married, Stuart did some research and booked a restaurant at Siglap for our first Valentine’s Day. And we named each other the “World’s Most Wonderful Valentine”! Here’re the certificates to prove it:

And that’s it! Nothing fanciful, and no big surprises in store, but I was still happy to have spent that few hours with him over a candlelit dinner.

Now, into our 2nd year of marriage, my thoughts on this Valentine were even more prosaic than before. Not because I’m no longer into romance and passion, but I’ve learnt to appreciate the occasions when we have breakfast together, watching a DVD movie at home and just having some silly conversations while strolling home. And those didn’t come only once a year. They come randomly, and I’m grateful for each and every one of these moments.

So, when I knew he would be working this Saturday, I didn’t kick a big fuss, nor did I sulk. I merely said: “Okay.”

In the end, we decided to have our celebration on Friday, the eve of Valentine’s Day. Everything’s all right with the world—I’m happy!