Tommy on the Big Red Balls at Singapore Urban Attack.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Monday, May 3, 2010
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Friday, April 2, 2010
Monday, March 29, 2010
March 29. 2010
Nothing terribly funny this week (or maybe prior week’s either for that matter!) unless you count me not giving Tucker enough cab money to get to basketball practice in a driving rainstorm. He didn’t think it was too funny. Nor did the cabbie, who’s scheduled to stop by to pick up his 7 dollars and 25 cents. Sing.
Just a few thoughts about our trip to Vietnam. Pictures are on the website: www.mathii.com/Hanoi.html
• Vietnam Ponderings
o We spent Spring Break in Hanoi, as one does. It’s Asian-French, communist and capitalist, and definitely loud.
o The Traffic -- There were more motorcycles and mopeds than I’ve ever seen. And everyone honks. Crossing the street is like the video game Frogger. We had been told the best way to cross the street was to just go, go slow, go steady, just go and the motorcycle waters will part. That first time was a little nerve wracking, but then it got easier. Step off the curb, find an opening and go. Miraculously, the speeding motorcycles and mopeds and bicycles and cars don’t hit you. I think a blind man could cross the street there. Traffic was slow everywhere we went, but it was steady, there were no crazy fast drivers, and there was never a jam. In many ways it was much more civilized even with the incessant honking than Singapore or the U.S.
o The Communists – Other than the flag, there were no outwards signs of this being a Communist country. Our guide, who is now my authority on all things Vietnam, said that the people don’t like the government because it is corrupt. But there is little or no resistance to it. North and South, together for ages now, still seem to be leery of each other.
o The Paper – Hanoi had the best English language newspaper we’ve read in Asia. Great international news but with a bent towards Russia, Cuba, and China.
o The War – When I hear “Vietnam”, the war is first thing I think of as I assume most Americans do. The Vietnamese call it the “American War”, which makes sense. But other than a few museums there are no signs of the war, there are no references to it in shops, or in the attitudes of the folks we met. My evaluation is that it was 35 years ago, a generation and a half, they’ve moved on. For the Vietnamese, the “American War” was sandwiched between a 10 year war with France for independence, and another 10 year war/occupation of Cambodia, and then the merging of the two formerly warring Vietnams. They’ve had a lot to worry about, and it doesn’t appear they’ve had the time or inclination for grudges. Of course, the winners don’t often hold grudges.
o The Prison – Two interesting observations about the 100 year old Hanoi Hilton. The exhibits were very bent towards the horrible treatment the French gave the Vietnamese prisoners, and the “good” treatment the Vietnamese gave to the American pilots. Certainly not very objective, but if it were my museum… One thing our guide said was very interesting. While discussing the museum he said, “After the Russians defeated the Germans in World War II, we began our battle with the French.” Technically he’s correct, but it’s an interesting and contrarian to our American perspective.
o The People – These are the tiniest people I’ve ever seen, yet somehow I gained 10 more pounds. Jacey was even taller than some of the aunties. They were friendly but with reservations. In contrast, in Cambodia and Thailand, everyone is happy and always smiling at the Caucasians; In Vietnam, there wasn’t anything bad or uncomfortable, just not total enthusiasm that we were there.
o The Food – Didn’t have a single thing that was bad. But didn’t have a single thing that made me want to come home and learn to cook it. Vietnam is the 2nd largest exporter of rice after Thailand; just about every meal had or could have had rice. It’s a different type of rice, a smaller grain half the size of a regular rice grain; I’d never had it before.
o The Longhorns -- We came out of the Prison Museum and were searching for a Cyclo to take for a ride. There was a lone driver resting before pedaling large American tourists around the Old Quarter. It was fate. Somewhere, another travelling Longhorn is writing about giving his favorite cap away. (We had to teach him how to Hook ‘em though)
OK, one funnier Vietnam story...
I wanted a shirt with the Vietnamese, yellow star on it to match my Chinese red star shirt. We stopped in a shop and I tried on an XL. I could tell from looking that it wouldn’t quite fit. In the US, an XL always fits. On a really good day, an L is feasible if the day doesn’t include eating. I went to a 2XL. I looked like Simon Cowell it was so tight. I usually quit there because the shapes get all out of proportion above extra large, but these were kind of normal. I pulled on an XXXL. It was still tight in the stomach. By now it was just a game. The XXXXL was still a little snug. I was certain I had reached the top, or the bottom of her pile of shirts. But the smiley lady dug deep and found an XXXXXL. Yes, a 5XL is the size I wear in Vietnam.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
March 13, 2010
I coached Jacey’s softball game Saturday morning. I can hear my parents laughing from here. After that grounder jumped up and hit me in the nose in fourth grade (many, many years ago – but I still remember) I never really cared for baseball. I got t-shirt and cap though.
A friend of ours played Happy Birthday to me on his bagpipes Saturday night at a St. Patrick’s Day party on his 27th floor patio. After many, many birthdays, that’s a first.
A friend of ours played Happy Birthday to me on his bagpipes Saturday night at a St. Patrick’s Day party on his 27th floor patio. After many, many birthdays, that’s a first.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
March 9, 2010
Dear sweet little Jacey had her first confession this afternoon. She is well on her way to her first communion in May. She’s been studying and learning her Act of Contrition and Hail Mary’s and all that other Catholic voodoo stuff.
We walked into the church and sat with her classmates. As the first classmate went, she looked over her shoulder and watched with a bit of trepidation. She was a little scared and readily admitted it. I wanted to help. Out of the blue I remembered how I used to tease Tucker before his first confession to ease the tension. I would remind him to be sure to confess everything to the priest, especially the part about… and then I’d make up something silly. Tucker thought it was hilarious 3 years ago. So I leaned over and told Jacey the story. Soon it was her turn.
The priest was in the back of sanctuary, far enough that you couldn’t hear, but close enough to see. Jacey sat down in front of the priest and there was a bit of crossing and chanting and incense, and then the priest, who had been very serious with the previous students, leaned back in his chair, chuckled and began to smile. Jacey had a big grin and looked our way. They continued talking and smiling and smiling and talking. This wasn’t like any of the other kid’s confession. What had I done?
As we walked to the car, we asked what she confessed. What had she said that made the priest laugh? She didn’t want to tell. We begged. She hesitated. Then giggling: I told him my Dad said that I should say I once killed a man in Tennessee! And that sometimes I roll my eyes. And I hit my brother.
We’re going to have to change churches. Maybe it’s time to move back to Austin.
We walked into the church and sat with her classmates. As the first classmate went, she looked over her shoulder and watched with a bit of trepidation. She was a little scared and readily admitted it. I wanted to help. Out of the blue I remembered how I used to tease Tucker before his first confession to ease the tension. I would remind him to be sure to confess everything to the priest, especially the part about… and then I’d make up something silly. Tucker thought it was hilarious 3 years ago. So I leaned over and told Jacey the story. Soon it was her turn.
The priest was in the back of sanctuary, far enough that you couldn’t hear, but close enough to see. Jacey sat down in front of the priest and there was a bit of crossing and chanting and incense, and then the priest, who had been very serious with the previous students, leaned back in his chair, chuckled and began to smile. Jacey had a big grin and looked our way. They continued talking and smiling and smiling and talking. This wasn’t like any of the other kid’s confession. What had I done?
As we walked to the car, we asked what she confessed. What had she said that made the priest laugh? She didn’t want to tell. We begged. She hesitated. Then giggling: I told him my Dad said that I should say I once killed a man in Tennessee! And that sometimes I roll my eyes. And I hit my brother.
We’re going to have to change churches. Maybe it’s time to move back to Austin.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
March 3, 2010
Today was painting class with Mr. Tan day. Mr. Tan, the 62 year old Chinese man who doesn’t speak English, but is one of the funniest men I’ve met in Singapore. This man makes you laugh without saying a word (of English). I arrived about 15 minutes early as I’m prone to do (when alone), dropped off my bag at the studio (and I use that term lightly), and headed off to grab a Coke before class. I think I woke Mr. Tan from his afternoon nap, as he was sitting on the couch, arms crossed, head slightly forward. I love a guy who savors a good nap. But Mr. Tan isn’t the story this time.
With 15 minutes to spare and my teacher asleep, I decided to explore the Golden Mile Tower or “Little Thailand” where the studio (lightly, again) is located. It’s an odd half-mall, half office-building type of building that I don’t think I’ve ever seen anywhere except Asia – it’s as if they put the nastiest strip center, along with the nasty strip center next to it, and the next one, all in the same older, smaller mall. Then someone closed up some of the skylights and broke a few of the too narrow escalators, and turned off about half the lights. The first amusement I came upon was outside a shop selling camouflage items and advertising that they’d sew on your army patches. Outside this Asian Academy Surplus was a lawn chair with the most shrunken little old lady I’ve ever seen, at least 95 years old, wrapped in a blanket and wearing a too big baseball cap that said “I Love Teachers” pulled down over her eyes. She was being force fed a gruel by a younger woman (remember, all in front of a shop in a mall). When later I asked Mr. Tan how long she had been there he said, “110 years.” I told you he was funny.
Next, I take one of the working escalators up a level to continue the exploration. This particular escalator begins in a food court area that is full of elderly men-- but not as elderly as the Teacher-lover lady– all having their afternoon beer. There’s a full table butted up to the escalator, all staring at the only Caucasian in the mall (me). I’m cool, very cool, and comfortable being the only Caucasian in the mall, and on the escalator, so I casually (and coolly) lean over and place my elbows on the black escalator track, my hands hanging over the edge. I’m cool, nodding a greeting confidently at the older beer drinkers as I’m moved along by the escalator. I’m cool, as my left hand, gliding along with the rail, perfectly snags the drinker’s grocery bag that was sitting on the edge of the table and lifts it up, up and away. My hand went through the handle! If I were a thief I couldn’t have been any smoother. Their grocery bag is now mine. After I shit myself in fear and disbelief, I realized my mistake, took several steps down the up escalator, lowered the grocery bag back to the table, and began repeating, “sorry, sorry, sorry…” as fast as I can, turn and walk up the escalator to speed my retreat. No one followed or said a word. It’s not every day a Caucasian grocery bag thief visits the Golden Mile.
The rest of the mall was either travel agents, karaoke bars which weren’t much bigger than a small café, massage parlors, religious stores selling every type of Buddha’s, a few tattoo parlors (see, just like a Texas strip center), this was the surprise – mail order bride shops. I’ve heard of them, seen TV shows make fun of them, but never have I seen one in person. After the grocery bag incident I was a bit hesitant to push my luck, but there were so many of them I couldn’t resist. About half were closed. One in particular was the Ideal Marriage Center www.idealbride.sg where they advertise “Select your bride on the spot or visit Hainan or Vietnam and choose from hundred of beauties over there” – “Our Philosophy -- Integrity, Practical Service, Best Service”. (I don’t guarantee the website’s safety, but I went to it and looked and nothing seems to have happened to my computer – it’s interesting). The ones that were open appeared to be a one stop shop. Each of them had women lounging about in the lobby who looked remarkably like the Vietnamese mail-order brides in the photos on their walls. I saw no purpose in pursuing the issue further. Though I reserve the right to do further research later.
With 15 minutes to spare and my teacher asleep, I decided to explore the Golden Mile Tower or “Little Thailand” where the studio (lightly, again) is located. It’s an odd half-mall, half office-building type of building that I don’t think I’ve ever seen anywhere except Asia – it’s as if they put the nastiest strip center, along with the nasty strip center next to it, and the next one, all in the same older, smaller mall. Then someone closed up some of the skylights and broke a few of the too narrow escalators, and turned off about half the lights. The first amusement I came upon was outside a shop selling camouflage items and advertising that they’d sew on your army patches. Outside this Asian Academy Surplus was a lawn chair with the most shrunken little old lady I’ve ever seen, at least 95 years old, wrapped in a blanket and wearing a too big baseball cap that said “I Love Teachers” pulled down over her eyes. She was being force fed a gruel by a younger woman (remember, all in front of a shop in a mall). When later I asked Mr. Tan how long she had been there he said, “110 years.” I told you he was funny.
Next, I take one of the working escalators up a level to continue the exploration. This particular escalator begins in a food court area that is full of elderly men-- but not as elderly as the Teacher-lover lady– all having their afternoon beer. There’s a full table butted up to the escalator, all staring at the only Caucasian in the mall (me). I’m cool, very cool, and comfortable being the only Caucasian in the mall, and on the escalator, so I casually (and coolly) lean over and place my elbows on the black escalator track, my hands hanging over the edge. I’m cool, nodding a greeting confidently at the older beer drinkers as I’m moved along by the escalator. I’m cool, as my left hand, gliding along with the rail, perfectly snags the drinker’s grocery bag that was sitting on the edge of the table and lifts it up, up and away. My hand went through the handle! If I were a thief I couldn’t have been any smoother. Their grocery bag is now mine. After I shit myself in fear and disbelief, I realized my mistake, took several steps down the up escalator, lowered the grocery bag back to the table, and began repeating, “sorry, sorry, sorry…” as fast as I can, turn and walk up the escalator to speed my retreat. No one followed or said a word. It’s not every day a Caucasian grocery bag thief visits the Golden Mile.
The rest of the mall was either travel agents, karaoke bars which weren’t much bigger than a small café, massage parlors, religious stores selling every type of Buddha’s, a few tattoo parlors (see, just like a Texas strip center), this was the surprise – mail order bride shops. I’ve heard of them, seen TV shows make fun of them, but never have I seen one in person. After the grocery bag incident I was a bit hesitant to push my luck, but there were so many of them I couldn’t resist. About half were closed. One in particular was the Ideal Marriage Center www.idealbride.sg where they advertise “Select your bride on the spot or visit Hainan or Vietnam and choose from hundred of beauties over there” – “Our Philosophy -- Integrity, Practical Service, Best Service”. (I don’t guarantee the website’s safety, but I went to it and looked and nothing seems to have happened to my computer – it’s interesting). The ones that were open appeared to be a one stop shop. Each of them had women lounging about in the lobby who looked remarkably like the Vietnamese mail-order brides in the photos on their walls. I saw no purpose in pursuing the issue further. Though I reserve the right to do further research later.
It’s all fun and games until it hits home. While cooking dinner – yes, I helped – I was discussing my exploits with Cenie. I think I was telling her how sad the whole buy-a-bride thing is. Apparently she didn’t hear the sad part because she proceeded to tell me how she sent in her resume (somewhere) when she was younger and was contacted by a man. The American man moved to Hong Kong and she moved to Hong Kong. They had a year and a half relationship. He was 45. She wasn’t. He wanted to get married, but she didn’t so that was it. That was it except for her Aunt in Los Angeles who tried to arrange a marriage with an American man which she also rejected. After Hong Kong she moved back to the Philippines and married a Filipino who’s 15 years older than her who she supports. Not sure if that’s better, but who am I to say…
And thus ends the Day at The Golden Mile. At least I’m not being caned for petty grocery bag theft. Yet.
Monday, March 1, 2010
March 1, 2010
• We’re on the Equator. It’s hot. Everyday hot. Yet, February was the hottest and driest February on record in the 140 years they’ve kept records here. There was only about 1/3 of an inch of rain last month versus an average of nearly 7 inches. Yearly rainfall averages 93 inches.
• I was exercising in the botanical gardens this morning and an Asian man and his 4 or 5 year old daughter walked by out for a morning walk. All very normal. Except they were taking their bird for a walk. He was carrying a cage about the size of a pumpkin with a pretty little yellow bird. I asked him what type of bird it was. He said something indecipherable and I nodded in agreement as if I understood every word. Then I noticed the cage. It was bamboo and beautiful. It had carvings around the base and top, a brass hook, and a rail through the middle for the bird. The pencil thin rail was made of bone and also completely carved in filigree. He said it was 90 years old. You just don’t see folks out walking their bird in the antique bird cage in Austin -- though the crazy neighbor next door did occasionally walk his cat in his cat stroller.
• Bought a Whopper in the mall and took it to the car. I ate it while driving down Orchard Road. I believe I was the only person in all of Singapore eating a Whopper in their car.
• I was exercising in the botanical gardens this morning and an Asian man and his 4 or 5 year old daughter walked by out for a morning walk. All very normal. Except they were taking their bird for a walk. He was carrying a cage about the size of a pumpkin with a pretty little yellow bird. I asked him what type of bird it was. He said something indecipherable and I nodded in agreement as if I understood every word. Then I noticed the cage. It was bamboo and beautiful. It had carvings around the base and top, a brass hook, and a rail through the middle for the bird. The pencil thin rail was made of bone and also completely carved in filigree. He said it was 90 years old. You just don’t see folks out walking their bird in the antique bird cage in Austin -- though the crazy neighbor next door did occasionally walk his cat in his cat stroller.
• Bought a Whopper in the mall and took it to the car. I ate it while driving down Orchard Road. I believe I was the only person in all of Singapore eating a Whopper in their car.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
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Thursday, February 18, 2010
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
February 12, 2010
Tucker informed me this morning at 6:45 that he needed to be to school early this morning at 7:30. It takes 30 minutes to drive to school. I could have rushed and driven him… Instead I put him in a cab. And Jacey, too for good measure. First time they’ve both ridden a cab alone.
Everyone says cars in Singapore are “Expensive”, but it was all anecdotal. No one had ever told me exactly how expensive. Last night I met a Volvo dealer. He said an XC90 is S$180,000 to buy new plus $30,000 to buy a license plate. S$210,000 is about US$140,000. An XC90 in the US is probably around US$55,000.
February 14th is Chinese New Year! It’s a 4 day weekend and the Mathis family isn’t going anywhere. Something is definitely wrong.
Everyone says cars in Singapore are “Expensive”, but it was all anecdotal. No one had ever told me exactly how expensive. Last night I met a Volvo dealer. He said an XC90 is S$180,000 to buy new plus $30,000 to buy a license plate. S$210,000 is about US$140,000. An XC90 in the US is probably around US$55,000.
February 14th is Chinese New Year! It’s a 4 day weekend and the Mathis family isn’t going anywhere. Something is definitely wrong.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
February 10, 2010
It's 2/10/2010! Several months ago at a Christmas Fair I saw a booth with some traditional Chinese paintings in it that I really liked. I didn't buy one, but got a card. The lady said that the artist had a little shop in one of the more run down malls and didn't speak English. He gives lessons in Chinese painting, but it would be best for me to go by on a Saturday morning when there are other folks there who can translate. Saturday mornings are difficult.
So finally today I stopped in. Mr. Tan really doesn't speak English. Actually, he speaks more English than I speak Chinese. But in no way does he speak English. His studio is hardly large than an average bedroom and when Mary and I arrived he was sitting on the couch with his head bobbing taking a nap. I liked him immediately. We continued to talk to him as if he could understand us and he said very little. But somehow we were able to schedule a class for next Thursday (or as Mr. Tan called it "4" -- it's the fourth day of the week). Though he couldn't say "Thursday", he could say "$120 for lesson". As we were leaving he gave me a book of his work. I'm pretty sure he would have found a way to ask for payment otherwise.
I was motivated when I got home and finished a pastel I've been working on. I't from a picture we took in Cambodia.Tuesday, February 9, 2010
February 7, 2010
It’s Monday. I didn’t exercise. I haven’t showered in days. I made no plans. I forgot the Super Bowl was on TV. I paid bills. Last Monday I was lost in a jungle. By late morning I decided to go to a movie but the 6 stories of corkscrew driveway to the parking garage was overwhelming and I turned around and came home. Grabbed my book and began to read the most ridiculous book ever mandated by my book club (missed the 1st meeting, didn’t finished the 2nd book, and 3rd book stinks – what a great book club). Fell asleep on my right side and woke up with a nap induced hip injury from years of napping on inadequate couches on my right side. Hip replacement is imminent. Walked to Starbucks for a pick-me-up. While lumbering down Orchard I passed the Prime Minister’s (albino) son. I’m certain it was his son, because there just aren’t that many white haired Asians around. I followed him for 2 blocks with a hip limp hoping he was headed back to our street so I would have an excuse to talk to him. Finally deciding he wasn’t heading our way, I let him slip away. Without a good excuse, all I could have said was, “Aren’t you the Prime Minister’s (albino) son?” Then I would be arrested and caned as a hip limping stalker. The kids arrived home early and we took full advantage by watching two Hallmark Hall of Fame/Lifetime Original movies featuring Gena Rowland as an older southern woman (the only role she plays in every Hallmark movie). One was “Jacey’s Story” so we had to watch it. As bedtime approached and I should have been saying, “Time for bed!” I instead said, “Let’s walk to the mall for ice cream!” Now that’s good parenting. As 8:00 passed me by I spent the evening with Carrie, Amanda, Samantha and the other one watching the Sex and the City movie, realizing they’re just a little too old for this and I’ve never liked Sex and the City. While I was watching the Sex movie, I was forgetting that I should have been at the mandatory parent meeting for Jacey’s first confession. I was so busy today I forgot about it. And the Super Bowl.
And the Opposition's Response:
OMG!!!!!.... I am driving the 50 minutes home from the 10 hour Mandatory VP/D mtg in freakin Bastrop, TX getting inspired to embrace the "Dell Transformation Agenda around the 3 Strategic Pillars for 2010 to take my leadership to the next level"...and then I see this? I am on my way home to mice in the living room, squirrels in the attic, gas leaking, refrigerator broken house...and I see this?
So ...Ladies in Singapore - I need an intervention...for you know who: the albino-stalking, Sex in the City Watching, Hallmark Hall of Fame lover, who has forsaken all parenting duties during his busy days!
Even I had the confirmation class on my calendar...but I wouldn't want to remind him...as he loves it so when I do this!
So...If you can't do an intervention on my husband - can you at least ensure my children have some good Catholic role models? Can someone go beg the Church to let poor little Jacey still receive the Blessed Sacraments even if she is in the care of her albino-stalking father?
I'll be home in 6 days.....
Thank You!!!!! And May the Lord Bless You!
And the Opposition's Response:
OMG!!!!!.... I am driving the 50 minutes home from the 10 hour Mandatory VP/D mtg in freakin Bastrop, TX getting inspired to embrace the "Dell Transformation Agenda around the 3 Strategic Pillars for 2010 to take my leadership to the next level"...and then I see this? I am on my way home to mice in the living room, squirrels in the attic, gas leaking, refrigerator broken house...and I see this?
So ...Ladies in Singapore - I need an intervention...for you know who: the albino-stalking, Sex in the City Watching, Hallmark Hall of Fame lover, who has forsaken all parenting duties during his busy days!
Even I had the confirmation class on my calendar...but I wouldn't want to remind him...as he loves it so when I do this!
So...If you can't do an intervention on my husband - can you at least ensure my children have some good Catholic role models? Can someone go beg the Church to let poor little Jacey still receive the Blessed Sacraments even if she is in the care of her albino-stalking father?
I'll be home in 6 days.....
Thank You!!!!! And May the Lord Bless You!
Sunday, February 7, 2010
February 6, 2010
Went to the Singapore Airshow today. Were able to cut the queue and get a tour of one of the U.S. Army's transports. The guys who showed us the plane had spent the last several weeks going back and forth to Haiti before their 40+ hour trip to Singapore. Below is an unmanned drone. I always imagined them being the size of a toy plane. This is not. 
Thursday, February 4, 2010
February 5, 2010
I've been working on a painting for Jacey's room. It's a the Chinese character for Love. Tucker, my best worst critic, said he really liked it. When I told him that something wasn't just right about it he said, "It's probably your stroke order." What? "Every Chinese character has a specific stroke order when you draw it or it doesn't look right." You learn something new every day (from Tucker). And I think he was right.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
February 2, 2010
I scaled the heights of Bukit Timah this morning. Bukit Timah (which means “tin bearing hill” in Malay) is the highest point in Singapore. A sign at the top says that it took the first explorers in 1828 3 days to reach it from the city. It took me all of 20 minutes to reach the summit, but the paved paths gave me a slight advantage. The first explorers could see all the way to Fort Canning. I could see a sea of condos. On the way back to the parking lot I decided to take a side trail. And within minutes I was lost in the jungle. All humanity disappeared, the trail narrowed, the air thickened, and I continued to sweat. On an island with 5 million people, I get lost in the jungle on Bukit Timah for the next two hours! Luckily, this was a small preserve or I might not have been found for days (I now know why it took those first explorers so long). Along the way I saw (what must have been a spitting cobra) a snake and a herd (of what was certainly) killer monkeys that were contemplating chasing me down for dinner. They didn’t realize that I was contemplating monkey stew for dinner around a jungle fire had this adventure lasted much longer. Have you seen “Lost” where the jungle quivers and black smoke comes out and then they’re all attacked by a killer polar bear? That happened to me twice. Seriously. Or it could have just been the rivers of sweat stinging my eyes and blurring my vision. I knew I would find salvation soon because I was still on the island (I didn’t remember crossing an ocean), and my trail kept being redirected by signs that said “Keep Out – Singapore Army Firing Range”. You know the one – red sign, one man with a gun aimed at the other who has his arms raised. I was the one with the arms raised in submission. As I finally stumbled back to the parking lot and set off my car alarm I remembered… My phone has a GPS.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
January 28, 2010
• I have absolutely nothing to say about the National Championship game. It seems ages ago, but it’s only been 2 ½ weeks.
• The other evening, our Irish friends came over to the house and we had Mexican Nacho’s and Margaritas poolside. While the kids were watching a Malaysian pirated copy of Avatar, the adults headed out to an Australian bar in the middle of Little India. From there we headed to a Cuban salsa bar and finally tapas at a Spanish bodega. In Singapore. We opted not to go to the Irish bar called Obama’s in Chinatown.
• McDonalds I -- Our local McDonalds disappeared while I was in Los Angeles. It was 3 minutes from our house and now there is absolutely no sign of it. I didn’t think they ever closed one. Asian “Pat” at the Starbucks next door said that it is going to become a Chinese Restaurant – because Singapore needs more of those.
• OK, I do have something to say. If you could win the National Championship game by taking a knee, why would you go for another touchdown? And I keep telling myself, there are 119 other teams (and fans) who would have given anything for the opportunity to lose that game. And I’m really glad I went. And the Rose Bowl stadium is horrible and dangerous – even the pre-renovated Cotton Bowl was better than the Rose Bowl. But it’s a beautiful setting.
• Texas had a good basketball team until I started to pay attention to them.
• McDonalds II – Tucker and Jacey were quite tickled that I can easily say, “two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onion on a sesame seed bun.” Yet, the words to Boom Boom Pow are beyond my ability.
• Tucker and Jacey were saying “Help” too much while playing (fighting) so we told them they needed to come up with a code word for when really needed help. They came up with three. Code Yellow is “Miniskirt”. Code Orange is “Roadkill”. And Code Red is “Drunk Wood Pigeon”. Huh?
• I was listening to the radio this morning and they were doing the traffic report. “There’s heavy traffic on the PIE at the BKE (these are the freeway names). There’s a wreck in Lane 1 of the AYE at South Buona Vista.” And then, “We have reports that there’s a monkey trying to cross the road at the intersection of Kalang and Lavender Streets.” The announcers then went on to discuss why a monkey would choose to cross at that particular intersection.
• Tucker swam 65 laps (3250 meters or over 2 miles) on Tuesday in the Haiti Swim-a-thon. He raised over $1000 for Haiti which included some of his and Jacey’s own money. We are very proud of how far he swam and his fundraising efforts.
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