The Haircut: How the Pampered Have Fallen

Sometime back, I wrote about how I was conflicted about going to have my haircut in one of the modern unisex hairdressing salons (The Haircut: the Estacy and the aqony). I initially felt uncomfortable with being pampered with someone washing my hair or giving me scalp massages but finally I gave in. So for the last four years, I had abandoned my proletariat roots and reveled in the decadence of the upmarket unisex salon.

However, economic realities and impending unemployment has recently forced me to seek more modest alternatives. And so, yesterday I found myself waiting in the queue at the bargain cut-price barber shop at the local mall.

It was very interesting comparing this budget establishment and the average unisex salon. Firstly, there was no nice sofa set or waiting room where you could read magazines or sip tea while you waited. The whole place was only really big enough for two barber chairs and we had to wait, sitting on three legged stools, outside in the corridor leading to the toilets.

The next noticeable difference was the cleanliness of the establishment or rather the lack of it. Let's just say that the floor had a heavy carpet of hair. The two staff was responsible for cutting and styling hair, collecting money, selling hair care products and cleaning up. Considerably overworked, cleaning and sweeping the floor of the cut locks by the staff only occurred when the layer of hair was deep enough to clog the wheels on their rolling chairs.

However, I thought the most interesting difference was in their approaches to hair styling. In the up-market hairsalon, the hairstylist expertly uses to cut the hair, getting rid of the unwanted lengths and then tidies up using an electirc clipper and a small pair of scissors. This is similar to someone using garden shears to trim back the unruly branches of a bush and then finally using an electric powered shears to finely sculpture the bush.

The highly expert budget stylist uses the electric clippers to shear you like a sheep is sheared for its wool and then uses the scissors to cut whatever remains sticking out. Using the analogy of the bush, it is more similar to using a chain saw to sculpture a bush and then tidying up the splinttered branches later with some shears.

I miss the up-market pampering but I like the price (which is at least 75% cheaper) and the haircut is actually quite good. Plus the people watching is more interesting. I think I can live with my fall from Grace. (Grace was the name of the up-market salon I used to go to).

Castaway's Choices

Hi guys and gals. I am just about ready to reveal my castaway's booty but first, I must thank you all for your interesting Desert Island Discs selections so far. As I said in the last post, you can chose 8 pieces of music (records or CDs), one book and one luxury item to take with you into exile on a desert island.

Mark and Jo have a strong preference for classical music to help them while their time on their tropical prison. Squirrelmama liked both classical as well as opera singing by the likes of Andre Bocelli. Geewits was the most eclectic and probably most similar to my own choices; but I also was introduced to a couple of musicians that I hadn't known, Leon Russel (Mark's choice) and Gato Barbeiri (Squirrelmama's choice).

Amongst the luxury items, the ladies opted for various skin care products and lip balm. Mark, always the rascal and pushing the limits of the rules, chose a yacht which is a very liberating luxury indeed.

Coming now to books, I liked all the choices. Moby Dick (Mark) and The Count of Monte Cristo (Geewits) seem like most appropriate choices given the circumstances but Jo's "Complete works of Somerset Maugham" hits close to home as some of his stories are based in and around Malaysia. Mago, on the other hand, wants to take eight books instead of eight pieces of music.

Okay, here goes. Drum roll please. Here's Lone Grey Squirrel's all alone on an island choices;

Music
1. & 2. Classical music cause it is so uplifting and for watching the sunrise or sunset. One
would have to be the entire suite of the Planets by Holst and the other a compilation
of the other great composers like Mozart, Beethoven etc.
3. Songs of Worship to praise God and to feed the spirit.
4. Billy Joel's Greatest Hits cause I love the Piano-man.
5. I need my jazz and I choose the uncomparable Ella Fitzgerald.
6. Showtunes and musicals. Either a compilation or the very first love, West Side Story.
7. When the stars come out and I need to party.....Black Eyed Peas.
8. I need the Celtic Touch. I choose The Chieftains.

Book
Once I spent a lot of time alone at a forest research centre and it had one book. I remember that it kept me company for many nights with not one tale but with many; reading one a night like a modern story of Arabian Nights. So I choose this well tested and proven companion; the complete Short Stories of O Henry.

Luxury
Why, it has to be a computer with internet excess so that I can continue to visit your blogs. What else could it be?

Small Minded

Although I have been working in the area of nature conservation for the last 15 years, I was originally trained as a biochemist and later did my doctorate in microbiology. In retrospect, my doctorate has not been very useful to me. It doesn't get me discounts at cinemas or restaurants, for example.

It also gets me no respect. When I tell people that I have a doctorate in microbiology, they usually respond by saying, "Oh, so you're not a REAL doctor then". Then, there is usually a short pause before they ask, "So what is a microbiologist anyway?"

I like to tell people that a microbiologist is someone who knows a lot about very little. Yes, I think that is a good definition. Anyway, as a service to young readers who may be trying to decide what to study at university or even for older readers seeking a career change, I have compiled the top ten reasons for doing microbiology. I hope this will help you.

TOP TEN REASONS TO BE A MICROBIOLOGIST

1. Microbiologist practice safe sex - we always wear protection and use sterile technique.
2. We know how to give you fever.
3. Self-diagnosis saves time at at the doctor's office.
4. We are really good at streaking.
5. We are used to different and diverse cultures.
6. Wanted to study to be a doctor but also wanted to party.
7. We know how to make small things look BIG.
8. The laboratory equipment can be used to make beer.
9. Get mistaken as doctors when wearing cute lab coats.
10. If we are really lucky, they will name a dreadful disease after us.

A Book, A Movie, A Song

Thank you all for your wonderfully diverse but helpful comments and advice to the previous post. Like in that post, the squirrel remains in a pensive and philosophical mood and the wanderings of my mind led me to this discovery.

A number of times, I have come across bloggers who do a meme on the books that they have read. They would share about the latest books they have read, favorite author etc. and very often, which have been the books that have influenced their lives most.

I have always not participated cause, when it comes to books that have influenced my life, my brain usually draws a blank. One because I am not a prolific reader, two because I am not a serious reader (i.e. I do not like to read heavy intellectual tomes) and three, my reading list is a little embarrassing.

So, as I said, I was surprised to make a discovery of what may be the book that has been most influential in my life (apart from the bible) during my recent mental wanderings. The book is "Ring of Bright Water" by Gavin Maxwell.

Well, it is actually a series of books including "The Rocks Remain" and "Raven Seek Thy Brother". For those of you who are unfamiliar about Gavin Maxwell and his books, I have posted on it before. Follow this link. It is essentially an autobiography of a journalist, author and naturalist who purchases a small piece of land in a remote part of Scotland; his own personal bit of heaven which he named Camusfeàrna. The books also detail his relationship with a whole menagerie of otters; his first love, Mijbil; his long time companion, Edal; Teko who brought fresh hope; and the next generation including Mossy and Monday.

How has this book (or series of books) been influential in my life? Well, I first read "Ring of Bright Water" when I was about 13 or 14 years of age and I think it was the first book that taught me to love animals and especially animals in the wild. My current career in nature conservation some 3 decades later stems from this love that was first planted as a seed then. That makes it a major influence indeed.

The books were also a very brutally honest record of the difficulties, both personal and financial, that Maxwell faced in trying to make his little piece of heaven work. There were also the disasters and tragedies that struck. At that young age, this was my first time reading about a very human icon. He may be author and naturalist extraordinaire but he was far from faultless and far from knowing all the right answers. He made me appreciate that heroes are humans too and the real heroes are the ones that get up after being knocked down and start re-building again.

Maxwell could probably have continued his successful career or even entered into the diplomatic service but he gave it all up for a simpler life amongst his otters and outdoor pursuits in his tiny remote corner of Scotland. My dreams have been affected by his. Success is not as the world measures but by your own sense of happiness in doing what you love. I still seek a little piece of heaven on earth even now.

As I prepared for this post, I came across the old theme song for the movie based on the book. I had actually forgotten how wonderfully poignant and inspiring these words were to my younger self. They are wonderful. The song was sung by Val Doonican and here are the lyrics, followed by the song itself.


Where sun and wind play on a ring of bright water
That's where my heartland will be
The deer on the hill in the first snow of winter
the gull in the sky winging free

I wandered away from the dark crowded city,
Leaving my old life behind,
And came to a place where a ring of bright water,
Dazzled the care from my mind.
So I live with the wonder of the sky and the sea
And I'll always remember who revealed them to me

But now you are gone with your whirlpools of laughter
Racing me down to the sea
But I always smile when a ring of bright water
Echoes your laughter to me.

(key change)

But now you are gone with your whirlpools of laughter
Racing me down to the sea
But I always smile when a ring of bright water
Echoes your laughter to me.
Echoes your laughter to me

Music for a Funk

I am feeling a little down. My wife is away, traveling and I miss her. I got the flu. Work is piling up and so are the bills. And, there is conflict at work. I don't do conflict well. I guess you can say that I am in a funk. I had no idea what to post tonight but I went over The Walking Man's blog and something happened as I read his poem, TIRED OF BEING WET AND COLD?

The poem somehow reminded me of the lyrics of a song that was a particular favorite of mine when I went through my depression period. This 1969 song was sung by the singularly talented Peggy Lee and was written by Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller. The song was inspired by the story "Disillusionment" by Thomas Mann, written in 1896. You know that you are depressed when even the greatest joys, greatest excitements and the greatest loss leaves you with nothing but a numb, empty feeling.

So in line with my current gloomy mood and my philosophy of "why should I suffer alone?", I would like to share this dark song which is ideal for stewing in a funk. For those of you who mistakenly thought that I was going to play funky music, you can leave now. It's music for a funk and not funky music.

Oops! I Did It Again

I made the following post exactly a year ago but it would seem that somethings never change and it is as relevant today as it was a year ago.......Sadly.

IS TO STOP PROCRASTINATING!

Oh, and may I take this opportunity to wish you all a belated "Happy New Year's" greeting.

Still Monitoring the Airwaves

Dear friends, readers and wandering visitors,

You may or may not have been wondering where the squirrel has been for most of the last month. Either way, the answer to my disappearance can be summed up in one foul four-letter word; "WORK".

Even so, in whatever small slivers of time that I could scrounge, I have kept monitoring your various blogs. I was able to do this by applying the latest available satellite dish technology available to the squirrel kingdom (as seen below). This special program is called S.E.T.I. or Squirrels Eavesdropping on The Internet.

Realm of the Lone Grey Squirrel's SETI program

Well, here are a list of excuses for not posting that have been cleared by my PR team.

1. I was overworked and have been working almost every day for the last month.
2. I was overworked and I have been working some 16 hour days for most of the month.
3. I was overworked and I was also traveling to places with no internet access.
4. I was overworked and I preferred to use my spare time to eat, sleep and use the toilet.
5. I was overworked and declared mentally unstable ("disturbed" was the term used by the doctor) and it is hard to type on the laptop while tied up in a straitjacket.
6. I was overworked and I fell asleep on my laptop and drooled into my key board and shorted it out.
7. I was overworked and so tired that it was difficult to type on the laptop as all the letters on the keyboard began to look like alien hieroglyphics.
   
8. I was overworked and drank so much coffee to stay awake that I had coffee rings round my eyes which somehow made it hard for me to read the computer screen.
9. I was overworked and distracted by all the tiny fairies and goblins that I was seeing all over the place.
   
10. I was overworked and my mind was too confused to0 come up with good excuses for not posting earlier.
    

However, as I have said, my lack of posting does not mean that I have not been monitoring the blogosphere and keeping in touch with the latest in weird news from around the world. To prove this, I offer the following as a remark on two rather sad and strange recent incidents.


Well, fairly recent incidents. C'mon, give this overworked squirrel a break.

Reflecting on 47

"Do not try this at home".

Well, this is the first day after my 47th birthday and the first day of the rest of my life. I was completely pampered by my wife this last weekend and had a very nice gourmet meal at a fancy restaurant yesterday. So in many ways, life has been good.

However, as usual, I get introspective at these times. And as I took some time to reflect upon my life thus far, I feel very blessed, happy and contented.

My career hasn't turned out the way I expected but I have had fun doing it (for the most part) and come close to the top of my eventual career path. More important to me is that I feel that I have been fortunate to have participated in some projects that have brought benefits to the community.

I am happily married and my social life is quite satisfactory. Financially, I suffer the fate of working for a non-profit organisation. As such, I am not rolling in money but again, I am comfortable and thankful for that.

I have for a long time held that the secret of happiness is to be content and I find that it has worked well for me. However, one has to wonder if someone can be too content.

There is the anecdotal tale of the experiment where a frog is placed in a pan of water. As long as the water is heated gently so that its temperature increases very slowly, the frog will adapt to the slowly increasing heat and not sense danger. In this way, the frog will make no attempt to escape and will eventually be boiled alive. (Please do not try this at home).

The scientific accuracy of the story is doubtful but the story serves to warn against our tendency to accept small changes and not be alerted to its potential danger until it is too late.

Perhaps this is the inherent problem of being content; that we fail to make decisions or take actions which might further enrich our lives. Being content should not mean that we should have no dreams or aspirations.

Therefore, I think I should be more pro-active in making positive changes in my spiritual life, in my family life, social life and at work. In each, I hope to have a more positive impact on those around me; to build up my personal relationship with God and to be more of an agent of His love.

So as I begin the rest of my life, this is the pledge that I make to myself. After all, I don't want to end up as a boiled frog!

Adventures in the Fast Lane

Fast Food?

I apologise if you have lured you here under false pretenses. From the title of the post, you might have thought that this post is about living the life of the rich and famous ...... it is not. Or you might have thought that it would be the confessions of a drug abuser and speed addict ....... but you would be wrong. Or you might have expected tales from the life of a race car driver ...... but you would be disappointed.

Instead, I am writing about fasting. Fasting is the the act of willingly abstaining from some or all food, drink, or both, for a period of time. It is now the month of Rahmadan during which Muslims all of the world fast from sunrise to sunset. No food or liquid should be ingested during the fasting period and this even means spitting out saliva instead of swallowing it.
The purpose of fasting is for Muslims to gain more noble values by gaining control of their natural desires and passions. Some Muslim friends have also explained that fasting makes them more appreciative of the suffering of those less fortunate.

Have you fasted before? I have four tales of fasting from my own experiences.

Tale No: 1 (The Early Years)
My first experience with fasting was in my early teens, when as a young Christian, I took part in prayer and fasting sessions. The purpose was to meet in groups to encounter God and to pray for issues and for one another. Aternating between periods of singing praises to God, silent devotion and prayer, these sessions would last from morning to evening (about 6 hours). We would often miss lunch as a result. The idea of fasting in this case was to put communion with God first before even our earthly desires. We used to do this about once a month and I actually enjoyed these sessions very much. Of course, not eating for just 6 hours isn't really a very long time but it was my first experiences in fasting.

When I was at University, I also took part in a couple of these fast to feed the world programs. The idea is to skip lunch and to donate your lunch money to a food aid charity.
Tale No:2 (The Surprise)
When I was studying in the United Kingdom for my A-levels, there was a short one week holiday and as I was staying in a hostel, a friend invited me to spend the holidays with his family. Now my friend is Jewish and his family home was in London. I had a great time and enjoyed their kind hospitality. My friend did tell me that there was a very important Jewish festival (I think it was Yom Kippur) during that week which they had to attend the synagogue. He told me that I could go off and do my own thing but I was keen to learn more about a different culture and religion. " When in Rome, do as the Romans do", as they say.

He was thrilled that I showed interest and even wanted to go to the synagogue with them. Now this is when he sprung the surprise. Apparently we had to fast for 25 hours. With the wild impulse of youth, I accepted the challenge. So I found myself fasting for 25 hours and attending an extremely long service at the synagogue (from morning to mid-afternoon).

Despite the length of the service, I was taken in with the paegent.ry and the strangeness of the language and the go-ing ons. As such, I was distracted from thinking about food but that completely changed after the service. The mind is a little foggy on this point but I think both my friend and I cheated on the fasting thing when his parents weren't around later. Still, it was the first time i felt truly challenged by fasting and gave me a better respect for those who practice it regularly.

Tale No: 3 (The Real Test)
A few years later, I was travelling through Yugoslavia. In those days the Yugoslavia dinar had no value outside of that country. Therefore, you needed to be careful not to change too much money if you did not want to be left with a bunch of notes that you cannot exchange back into any useful currency when you left.

Of course, being frugal, I exchnaged only a little of my traveler's cheques. As a result, I ran out of dinar on my last day in Yugoslavia and spent the last 8 hours effectively penniless while waiting for a train at the train station. I was hungry and very thirsty and all around me was food and people eating food but I was the penilless backpacker looking in on the feast.

It was a very difficult time. Unlike my earlier fasting tales, this was not voluntary and I could not stop even if I wanted to. In a way, this enforced fast made me understand the plight of the hungry more than any other experience.
Tale No: 4 (Still Unenlightened)
Some people say that fasting helps in self discovery and enlightenment. The earlier fasting experiences certainly taught me some life lessons and I am better able to fast voluntarily as a result. However, as this story shows, I was still very far from enlightenment or wisdom.

This final tale was set at the end of a long, tiring holiday. My girlfriend and I was on the way home after a long journey which included a long hike and bus journey. We were tired and dishevelled and had not eaten for about half the day when we got to the train station. We were taking separate trains from there. After buying our tickets, my girlfriend took the last of her money and bought me a hamburger.

She skips up to me and hands me the hamburger, served with a smile. Almost simultaneously, this homeless man comes up to me and asks for some small change for food. I looked and saw the hunger in his eyes. I had no money left either and so perhaps of the lessons I had previously learnt from fasting, automatically, I passed the hamburger to him. I remember two sets of expressions; the gratitute in the face of the homeless man and the sheer shock on my girlfriend's face. Perhaps i should have asked her if it was okay with her to offer the hamburger away. See......not so wise.

Casualty of Work

Just in case, the moons of Jupiter are aligned with the rings of Saturn which might possibly lead someone out there in the vastness of the universe to have noticed that this squirrel hasn't been making his usual rounds........it's all because of a four letter word...."W O R K".

Yup, this squirrel is being overworked and exploited by the evil world order. So have a good week and I will try to reappear into the sunlight on the other side of Jupiter's shadow.

In the meantime, the following picture expresses my feelings.

Five by Five

Five by Five is the phrase that Faith (the rival slayer from the series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer) uses to indicate that everything is okay. I thought it would make a good title for this meme from Jelica and Ruslan over at Budapest Bits, my new friends and favorite blog from the Balkans and Central Europe. This is because the meme requires 5 answers under 5 topics.

It has been awhile since I did a meme. For some of the older readers, some of my answers will already be familiar but I hope this will be of interest to some of my new friends here. It also falls on me to prod 5 others to take up this meme. Please don't feel obliged or pressured but it would be nice to know a bit more about you. I dub the famous Five to be;
1. Lorac at Ahhh...the Cottage Life.
2. thisrainykitten at my blog.
3. Sally at Sally's World.
4. eastcoastdweller at In Search of Isis.
5. Cabcree at Cabcree.

FIVE FAVORITE SONGS:
1. I Can’t Make You Love Me (Bonnie Raitt, 1991)

Just think this is a great song. Soul wrenching music and lyrics.

2. And So It Goes (Billy Joel, 1989)

I proposed to my wife by singing this song, so it is very precious.

3. Alone Again Naturally (Gilbert O'Sullivan, 1972)

An early melancholic favorite.

4. Anything But Ordinary (Avril Lavigne, 2002)

My current theme song. Great lyrics and outlook to life.

5. Scarborough Fair/Canticle (Traditional Arr.; Simon and Garfunkel, 1966)

Great traditional song and wonderful anti-war anthem.

FIVE FAVORITE FILMS:

1. Running on Empty (1988)

This movie is about family, love and sacrifice. Always makes me cry.

2. Blade Runner (1982)

Probably the best Science fiction movie ever. Shows a dark side to the progress of

science.

3. Before Sunrise (1995)

A simple story of a chance encounter on a train but I think one of the most

romantic stories ever.

4. Thunderheart (1992)

A spiritual journey and a story of injustice against native peoples.

5. Sleepless in Seattle (1993)

Another movie that makes me cry. Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks make a great

romantic comedy combination.

FIVE FAVORITE BOOKS:

1. Ring of Bright Water (Gavin Maxwell, 1960)
This book taught me to love animals
2. Watership Down ( Richard Adams ,1972)
This book also taught me love animals but also to question human systems of governance and beliefs.
3. All Creatures Great and Small (James Herriot, 1972)
This book also taught me to love animals and gave me a better sense of life's hopes, dreams, ups and downs.
4. Rendezvous with Rama (Arthur C. Clarke, 1972)
I love the premise of this story. Very humbling.
5. The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever ( Stephen R. Donaldson,
1977-1979)
A great fantasy story played out against the lack of faith of the hero.

FIVE FAVORITE CRUSHES:

1. Susan Hampshire
(British actress with large cleavage – what do you expect, this was my adolescence crush.)
2. Sophia Loren
(Italian Screen Sex Goddess – a bit older now but still controlled by raging hormones. I
like my women meaty and curvy)
3. Natalie Wood
(American Actress – beginning to see women as people. Natalie remains one of my
favorites. She is strong, yet vulnerable. And is she ever so pretty).
4. Gong Li
(Chinese Actress – Even stronger, yet vulnerable. The Asian version of Natalie Wood).
5. Isabella Rossellini
(Italian Actress, daughter of Ingrid Bergman who almost made this list too. What can I say. She’s stunning at 55 years old. Graceful beauty and aging well).

FIVE FAVORITE RANDOM THINGS:
1. Walking in the rain.
2. Swimming in a jungle stream.
3. Spending time with my wife.
4. Dinner with friends.
5. Laughter of Children.

Read before Sunset

I love horror stories. For some perverse reason, I like to be so scared that I pee in my pants. Coupled with my preference for spicy, hot, tongue scalding chili encrusted meals, that should be enough to label me as a masochist. Anyway, I started on this post late last night but was scaring myself so much I decided it would be better to stop and only continue during daylight hours if only to evade getting nightmares when I slept.

Anyway as I was saying, I love horror stories. It doesn't even have to be a particularly good story. For example, the campy King of B-Grade Horror movies, "The Creature from the Black Lagoon" is so bad that it is good. You know what I mean?

However, as much as I like monster movies, I really, really like supernatural stories. When I was 12 years old, my 26 year old brother was supposed to take his girlfriend to watch the special midnight movie but for some reason, they had a tiff. I benefited from the rebound when he offered to sneak me in to see the movie which had an 18 only rating. I was thrilled. The movie was "The Exorcist" which in retrospect gives a clue to the subject of their lover's tiff. Not unexpectedly, I was severely traumatised by the movie and could not sleep for weeks as I awaited an arm to come out of the wall to grab me.

Although Hollywood has come out with many outstanding supernatural horror stories, in recent years the far more scary movies have come forth from the imagination of Asian directors such as "The Ring", "The Grudge", and "One Missed Call".

Below are some of the horror concepts that work well at getting my goosebumps up.

1. Shining eyes. Eyes that glow in the dark. Imagine looking around in the dark. Everything looks normal. Suddenly you do a double take and you notice two dots of glowing red in a dark corner or at the window looking in. Scary! This effect was used in "Amityville Horror" when two glowing eyes appear in the window.
2. Mirrors. Often a hint or glimpse of some horror in a mirror or shining surface is far more effective than showing the whole horror. This is probably because when you get to see the whole thing, it looks too much like a guy with makeup on. I used to have to drive along a jungle road at night. All around was dark except for my headlights. Occasionally, out of habit, I would look into the rear-view mirror. Fortunately all I saw was darkness. Can you imagine how I would freak out if something suddenly appeared out of the darkness in my mirror? The urban legend of Bloody Mary uses the concept of the mirror leading into the spirit world.
3. Images on Photos. Sometimes the horror is scene as blurry images on photos or as images on the negatives. This has an interesting horror factor when the story protagonist and the audience are suddenly aware that the entity had been along side them all the while. In one very scary Thai movie, the hero realises that he has been capturing images of a ghost when he takes pictures of his friends. He figures this out when his friends all die ghastly deaths. Now trying to protect himself, he uses a polaroid camera to try to see the ghost approaching him. He takes photo after photo but despite no image of a ghost, he still senses its presence. Finally he realises something and he points the camera on himself and when the photo comes out, he sees the ghost sitting piggy-back on his shoulder and smiling into the camera. Creepy!
4. Evil Clown. Take something that kids trust like a clown or a teddy bear and make it evil. Probably because it affects our childhood security blankets, this can be a very effective vehicle for representing horror. The clown, well, clowns around but when he smiles his broad smile, why are his teeth shaped like needles. This concept was famously done in Stephen King's "It".
   
5. The Old Hag. One of the scariest effect for me is the Old Hag. This is when someone sleeps and has a nightmare but it doesn't end when he/she awakes. Instead, he wakes, he cannot move, he feels a weight on his chest making it hard to breathe and as the fog of sleep fades, to reveal the old hag's ugly face just inches from his. The Old Hag is an idea that evolved from the idea of witches and/or the incubus/succubus. I think this is scary because we feel vulnerable when we sleep and we are afraid to wake up to such horrors. I know it isn't quite the same but I once went to sleep in a jungle camp and woke up to a dead giant praying mantis right next to my face. I gave a little shreek. If it was an Old Hag, I would have jumped out of my skin. Speaking of skin, Ol' Skinner has an Old Hag experience in the X-Files. In an interesting twist, although the X-Files' Old Hag was darn scary, she turns out to be a benevolent protector.
6. Levitation. Levitation is a very good horror vehicle if used subtly. It's most effective when you do not realise that there is any levitation to start with at the beginning. When you finally realise it, the horror seems to just roll over you. This was in the closing scene of "The Blair Witch Project" when the last survivor thinks she sees a friend and only realises a little late that his feet does not touch the ground.
   

What Horror concepts works for you?

Stay Away From the Light

It was 1983. It was my first big adventure, backpacking across Europe primarily by myself. After an overnight train ride followed by a rough bus ride from Zagreb, I was extremely excited when I arrived at Plitvice Lakes National Park in what was then still Yugoslavia (this UNESCO World Heritage Site is today in Croatia). I just love nature, the great outdoors and water and the lush wildlife rich forests, limestone hills and caves and cascading lakes scores high in all those aspects.

After finding a place to stay in a home in the village of Jezerce, I hurried to the entrance of the Park and spent the whole afternoon in delirious exploration of the trails, waterfalls, lakes, beaches, boardwalks, caves and vistas of the Park. I was running around all over like a kid in Wonderland. It remains one of the best days I had ever had. Time quickly passed and before I knew it, the sun was beginning to sink behind the hills.

At this stage, I thought of hiking it back to the village but as I was approaching the exit, I was waylaid by this most exquisite aroma. It was the smell of fish being grilled and it came from the Park's outdoor restaurant. Until then, I had been mostly surviving on stale bread and cheese to save money while on my cross Europe trek. Now after a whole afternoon of rambling and scrambling, I was hungry and when I saw how inexpensive the food was as compared to other parts of Europe, my resistance crumbled. I took a seat and ordered grilled trout.

I had a great dinner but by the time I had finished, night had fallen. To my dismay, I then realised that apart from the restaurant which was then already closing, there were no lights to be seen. It had slipped my mind that I was now in the countryside and in a wilderness area. Although I had a torchlight, it was sitting in my backpack in my room in Jezerce, some 3 km away. I fumbled my way out of the Park and on to the road that led to Jezerce.

The road was not very wide although two cars could pass each other easily. At the side of the road was a narrow verge and then the tall pine trees of the surrounding forests rose high into the night sky so that it blocked off most of the light from the stars. It was very dark and I could barely make out the road. It was also getting very chilly. I had no choice. A warm bed awaited but I would have to navigate this road in the darkness.

As I walked, I realised that I knew very little about this part of the world and its forests. I knew there were bears and wolves in some parts of Europe. Were there any here? I did not know and my heart beat faster in my ignorance. I managed to find a fallen tree branch of suitable length and used it like a blindman's walking cane, probing the area in front of me. The branch might also come in handy if I did encounter any wolves or at least that was what I comforted myself with.

The journey was slow and stressful. Perhaps an hour had passed and I saw no one else nor any signs of lights from dwellings. The sky above was ablaze with stars twinkling in the chilly night air but I plodded along a dark road lined by dark silent trees. Then, in the distance, I saw a single bright beam of light appear on the road. It was coming towards me at a reasonably fast speed. I realised that it must be a motorcycle and was glad that to have even that little bit of light to illuminate my way.

The light got nearer and bigger and brighter. Eventually, it was so bright, I could not look into it. I moved to the side of the road to allow the motorcycle to pass. Then suddenly, it was upon me. To my horror, it was not a motorbike at all. Instead it turned out to be a massive juggernaut, a big 16 wheeler monster that was barreling down this country road that was barely wide enough to accomodate it and at high speed. To cap it all, it had only one headlight working.

The driver may also have been surprised to see me and seconds before I reacted, I heard the loud blast of its air horn. Th sound galvanised me into action and I threw myself off the road and into some bushes at the edge of the forest. The juggernaut rolled by with such speed that I could feel the air and myself being sucked towards the wheels as they passed. Then just as quickly, the lights and noise of the truck disappeared and darkness and quiet returned.

It had been another close brush with an unpleasant end. I made it to the village and safety without further incident but I was cold, bruised and in shock and it took a very long soak in a warm bath before I recovered any color in my cheeks.

If I had learned any lesson from this experience, it is to appreciate the truth behind the following wise sayings; "Stay away from the light." and "The light at the end of the tunnel may turn out to be a speeding train." Oh, and you would have thought that I would have also learnt the importance of bringing a torchlight along when walking on dark roads and forests but I still forget from time to time.

For all you readers with morbid curiosities who wanted me to conclude my previous post about near death experiences, let me just say that apart from what has already been mentioned, I also had Scarlet Fever, had a lorry rip off my car door, escaped being impaled by metal rods from the back of a lorry and been in at least 3 car accidents including one in which I caused the car to spin 3 times. That's all folks.......and it is quite enough, don't you think?

Season Extended

Biochemistry may be considered to be the scientific study of the chemistry of life. However, my biochemistry professor used to say that, "The more one studies biochemistry, the more one asks, not how is it we are alive but why aren't we dead." By this he meant that the further we probe into the complex interactions that keep us alive, the wonder of life is replaced by the amazement that something has not already gone wrong.

Indeed, to stay alive, some two million different proteins must be functioning properly. These proteins consist of chains of amino acids in a specific sequence that can be as short as 51 units (insulin) or as long as 26,926 (connectin). Now consider that in many of those two million proteins, a single amino acid in the wrong place in the sequence may be enough to kill you. On top of that, the level of these proteins must also be just right in relation to each other. To try to understand this, try picturing that you have to type words consisting of between 51 and 26,926 letters each in an exact sequence and then make sure that you type these words an exact number of times which is specific for each of the two million different words. And now try to imagine that you have to keep typing this with close to 100% accuracy again and again or it is game over!

Okay, enough with the science lesson. The point that I am trying to make is that it is a miracle that we are alive and a miracle that we stay alive and that is just from the aspect of our body function. Next we have to consider that we live in a dangerous world full of myriads of possible threats. Life could be snuffed out by natural phenomena, illness, contact with dangerous plants and animals, machinery, other humans etc........ Again, I think we ought to be thankful we are still alive.

In my last post, I kind of joked about being a Star Trek Redshirt (i.e. he who gets killed off in the very first episode). I must say that I am thankful that I have made it to my 47th year. There have been occasions that my season could have ended but God has chosen to extend my contract. I don't know why He has done so but I know He has set my Guardian Angel to protect me thus far. Sometimes, my own stupidity has kept my Guardian Angel busy.

Below are just some of the incidents that I remember which we may call my near death experiences or perhaps preferably, my life extention experiences.

1. The Glass Guilotine. When I was a toddler, I apparently smashed my hand through a pane glass door and a sheet of glass came crashing down that could have taken my head off but I escaped with a badly cut finger and a scar today to show for it.

2. The Rotting Gut. I had a bad stomach pain when I was 11 years old. I went to hospital for observation but the pain disappeared overnight. The doctor came in the morning and decided to discharge me, However, despite my best effort to get out of there like the wind, a more senior doctor came and decided that I should have some exploratory surgery. I protested that I was well but he insisted. He operated and saved me from a perforated appendix.

3. The Rock Landing. When I was about 12, I went for a school picnic at the foot of a dam. All of us were excited when the bus dropped us at the top of a small valley. To get to the bottom where we could picnic and swim, we had to negotiate a slope of about 30-40 degrees consisting of loose rocks. Overgrowing the rocks were some jungle creepers. In my enthusiasm, I grabbed hold of a couple of food hampers and made my way down. The hampers were not heavy but they were bulky and they inhibited my line of sight so that as I was making my way down, I caught my foot on a creeper vine and went flying into the air. I feared the worse. Yet, despite falling a vertical distance of more than twenty feet, I landed on my feet in the loose rocks, kept my balance, suffered no injury and even managed to catch my two food hampers. I think my Guardian Angel was particularly alert that day.

4. The Bicycle Incident. When I was 14, I stayed away from home for a month with family friends in the boondocks and I enjoyed the freedom and new experiences. I eventually became a very good bicycle rider but that was not so at the beginning. At the beginning, I was an idiot and a klutz. One early trip, I decided to cycle to a nearby village post office to mail some letters. The bicycle I used had a basket in the front and I placed my letters there. Before long, I was cycling along a pothole ridden single lane road that led to the village. Despite being a small country road, the vehicular traffic was heavy and often recklessly fast. I was happily cycling along when it all happened in a flash. The bicycle hit a pothole; the letters flew up and one fell out; without thinking, I bent into the traffic and grabbed at the letter. Next thing I heard was a loud horn and I felt the rush of a car passing less than an inch from my head.

5. The Gang Standoff. When I was 16, I regularly played basketball at my school which had two basketball courts side by side. One Saturday, as we were playing (and you could consider my gang of 10 to be mostly skinny nerds), we were suddenly approached by a gang of 10 ruffians. They were looking for a fight. They started pushing and intimidating us and nothing we said could placate them. Things got worse by the minute as some of them picked up long metal pipes from a nearby construction site. Others showed us that they were armed with hunting knives. Honestly, all I could do was pray and wait for the pain to start. Then at almost the point of no return, a well respected atheletic school prefect came by and at great risk to himself, intervened. So instead of fighting, we played each other in a rough and tough basketball game. We lost the game but won some respect from the other gang and parted on better terms. However, it could have been so easily been quite bloody.

This post is already too long and I haven't even told you how I survived beyond my teen years. I will have to continue in the next post. However, I would very much like to hear how you, dear readers, are survivors. I am sure you have similar or even more interesting stories of your own life extension experiences.

Jo Wants to Know

Josie had a great post in which she was interviewed. She seemed to have so much fun answering the questions. Just as we had a great time reading her replies and learning more about her. Anyway, a bunch of masochistic exhibitionists (myself included) excitedly lined up to be interviewed in turn by Josie. So here are her Questions and my answers.

1. Have you ever been influenced by a work of art – music, painting, book – and if so, how?
Music has been very influential in my life but it has always been different songs at different parts of my life. I have posted on this before ( theme songs I and theme songs II). The painting that has had the biggest impact on me is probably Christina's World by Andrew Wyeth. This picture gives a great sense of the challenge of life played in context against the wide canvas of space. It contrasts both the importance and insignificance of human existance. It has helped influence the way I think. As far as the printed word, I would say that apart from the Bible, it would have to be the short story by Maxim Gorky entitled "One Autumn Night" which again reminds us that our fates are not really in our control but we all need the chance encounters with other humans and that we all need acts of kindness and love.

2. If you were a chocolate bar, what type would you be?
I imagine myself to be a pretty straight forward guy; what you see is what you get. No surprises. Perhaps a little understated. I suppose that makes me a plain and perhaps boring milk chocolate bar.

3. What is your secret weapon to lure the opposite sex?
Hmm. I don't really know. Nothing obvious. I have always found it easy to make friends with the opposite sex. Perhaps they find me comforting......like a "milk chocolate bar"?

4. What, in your opinion, is your greatest accomplishment?
I was once involved in getting some young people out of the clutches of a brain-washing cult and stopping their activities in my area. The cult was eventually disbanded a year later when the leaders were arrested after they caused the death of some of their followers' children by refusing them medical treatment. I am glad that God gave me the opportunity and the strength to get those young people out of that potentially dangerous situation.

Doing independent traveling through Europe for a month would be my next choice as it helped build up my self-confidence and strengthen my character. It is an accomplishment that I am proud of and which brings me much satisfaction.

5. How many friends do you have on your Facebook account?
Well, I had about 12 friends on my Facebook account before I pulled the plug because I found that Facebook was taking up too much of my time.

Distinguishing Marks

Last evening, I had the following conversation with my wife.

Wife: Next time don't volunteer me to do salad for the church gathering.

Me: I thought salad would be easy.

Wife: Easy? Just who is going to grate the carrots.

Me: I'll help and we can get it done in no time.

Wife: You? Grating the carrots?

Me: Why? How difficult can it be? Pass me the grater.

I proceed to grate the carrots on the grater but before long, my grip slips and instead of carrot, I am feeding my thumb into the grater.

Me: OUCH!!!

Wife: How bad is it?

Me: Not too bad. Just a single cut. Look it is barely bleeding.

I keep grating the carrots without incident .....for another couple of minutes. Then, my thumb goes flying into the grater again!

Me: OUCH!!! OUCH!!! and TRIPLE OUCH!!! Man down! Man down! It's a gusher!

This time I achieved three cuts and my thumbnail split down the middle about half way. There's enough blood to get Dracula excited.

Wife: That's it! Stop trying to help me. Get out of the kitchen and stop bleeding into the salad!


And that, is pretty much how my thumb got its new scars. It is throbbing with pain to remind me not to send it into harms way again; which in turn got me thinking about the other silly things that I have done in my life and the various scars that my body sports as a result.

My very first battle scar was when picked up when I was a mere toddler. I declared war on a glass door. Well, actually I am told that the door was closed but I chose to walk right through it. Anyway, the entire glass pane shattered. Again, I am told that I could have been decapitated but I got away with a bad cut on my middle finger on my left hand. It resulted in a 2 cm long scar with a curious knot-like shape in the middle.

Next, I got a scar in the shape of an eye and about the same size on my right calf. I think that was from a bicycle accident. Then, I picked up my third scar when they abducted me when I was eleven and they did all kinds of weird experiments on me which they collectively referred to as an appendectomy.

My first visit to the British Council when I was twelve, to see a concert, left me with a chipped tooth after I missed a step coming down the stairs and decided to try to take a bite out of glorious Ol' England. Tooth versus concrete was not really a fair fight.

Bad shoes have left me with misshapen feet. Playing basketball and an ill conceived stunt involving jumping down a stairwell has left me with damaged ankles but you cannot see it on the outside. Well, since we have entered the body cavity, I might as well throw in the fact that I have 3 prolapsed and herniated spinal discs.

I think that is about it. Bet all of these are going to ache more as I grow older. How about you? Any distinguishing marks or scars with stories to share?

Last Raid on RAAF Georgetown (Part 2)

Forty unsupervised thirteen year olds on a road trip to a tropical island may sound like a license to unlimited fun (or a passport to disaster,depending on your point of view) but even in those circumstances, there were chores.

To save money, we cooked some of our meals at the old mansion where we were staying. Now we actually handled that very well without much problem. However, we were unsure of the quality of the tap water at the old building for drinking. As a precaution, we followed the standard practice of boiling the water and allowing it to cool before drinking.

Here lies the problem; it was a lot of work to provide drinking water for forty, active,sports-playing kids. Our daily drinking water requirement was at least 80 liters. We had two large kettles that could boil about 4 liters each. That allowed us to boil 8 liters of water at a time. The problem was that it took about 20 minutes to boil the water each time. That meant that we had to had someone on duty boiling water continuously for almost four hours each day. Also the water would be too hot to drink immediately and we had to wait at least two hours for it to cool down to room temperature. We tried this for the first two days but found it difficult since none of us wanted to waste so much time on water duty when there were places to go to and games to play.

We had a crisis meeting on the morning of the third day. The meeting was short but boisterous. However, we all agreed that we could not go on with our current water boiling schedules. We also agreed that there was a simple solution to this water crisis. We were aware that there was an abundant of water coolers within the Royal Australian Air Force (RAAF) Centre and there never seemed to be anyone around most of the time. We also knew there was a no trespassing sign at their entrance at the base of the hill. However, we concluded that the simple solution would be to obtain water from the base and that the "no trespassing" order did not apply to thirteen year olds.

And so, we collected all the available water containers we had (fortunately most of us had water bottles that could hold at least 1.5 liters) and a raiding party of twenty of us boldly set off down the hill along the front road. We entered the base unchallenged and soon found that there was a water cooler providing sweet, cold water almost every 100m within the complex of buildings. It took less than 10 minutes for us to fill our containers and we retreated up the hill without any incident. We celebrated with a drink of icy cold water back at the old mansion.

We did this twice a day for the next few days. Not every expedition was without incident. On some occasions, we had encounters with some of the Australian soldiers. Mostly, we pretended not to understand English and boldly walked away but at least one pair was collared by a couple of military police and warned not to come back.

On the second last day of our stay, we found a notice had been delivered to us at the old mansion. It was a letter from the RAAF authorities informing us that the base was out of bounds and that stern action would be taken against us if we were caught in it again. This really shook us up and that night we made no raid.

However, on the last day, after we spent a whole day out, we came back in the early evening and were too tired and lazy to go through the water boiling process and so we ignored the danger and plotted our last raid on RAAF Georgetown.

The Plan
We decided on some changes in our raiding plan. We split ourselves into the HQ Team, the Recon Team and the Raiding Party.

At 1900 hours, Recon Team consisting of four of our guys would walk down the road towards the main RAAF base entrance. On the way down, they would look for sign of activity in the building complexes as they past them on the right. If they see no threatening activity like secuirty patrols, they were to flash their torchlight three times. If they subsequently saw any activity that may jeapordise the operation, they were to flash the torchlight continuously and run back up the hill.

The HQ team would sit at the top of the hill and watch for the signal from the Recon Team. Upon seeing the signal, they would signal the message to the Raiding Party who were waiting at the other end of the hill top to begin the mission. Should the Recon Team signal danger, the HQ team was to alert the Raiding Party by means of ringing a bell we found at the old mansion and by dispatching two runners.

The Raid
The signal was given to start and we proceeded down the dark covered staircase which would bring us to the back of the RAAF base. There were twenty of us in the Raiding Party and we each had at least two water containers and we were also equipped with about 8 torchlights. The covered staircase was very dark but we decided not to use the torchlights because that would make us more visible. Instead we went down using the side of the stairs to guide us and keeping a hand on the sholder of the one in front of us.

We suffered a few falls, missteps and also a few wounds from the thorns of the weeds growing at the side of the stairs but we made it to the highest level of the RAAF complex buildings. On the way down, we could hear what sounded like about 50 Australian soldiers practicing Tae Kwan Do. Even though we could not tell where they were exactly, it was clear that there were personnel active within the base and we had to be careful.

The next stage was for us to move out in teams of two and seek out 10 water coolers which are located every 100 meters along these rows of buildings. While the buildings were in darkness, the corridors were brightly lit with no cover whatsoever.

We fanned out to our objectives like a well trained commando troop with the exception of one team that dropped their metal pot with a loud clang! We all immediately retreated to the darkness of the staircase and waited there with pounding hearts. But there was no response from the enemy and after another 5 minutes, the operation resumed.

Four of us went for a pair of water coolers located about 200 meters from the staircase and began to fill up our containers. We were about 10 minutes into the operation when suddenly, the lights came on in the room behind the water coolers. We were startled, a quick look showed shadowy movement throught the louvered windows. We quickly collected our water containers and we scuttled away and just in time. Almost immediately after we left, we could see the louvered windows open as if someone was trying to see if anything was going on.

We fell back to another group further down the corridor to warn them but before we reached them, the lights in the room near them also came on. When we looked down to the next row of buildings, we saw lights coming on all over the place. Our boys began to scuttle back to the staircase. As we rushed silently along, we suddenly heard the bell ring from the top of the hill. With that all attempt at stealth was abandoned. All twenty of us ran as fast as we could back to the staircase, our feets pounding on the cement corridors.

We heard some shouting but did not look back. When we reached the staircase, we did a quick head count and when we were satisfied all were present, we started up the lightless staircase. Initially, we kept our torchlights off as according to plan and proceeded up the same way as we came down. I was quite proud at how cool all of us were.

That did not last, however. Suddenly we hear movement in front of us and that was scary in the pitch darkness. Our leader shone his torchlight ahead and to our collective horror, we saw the pack of wild dogs snarling at us and blocking our way. What followed next was pure pandemonium. Our leader bravely yelled, "Run! Everyone for himself!" and that is exactly what we did. There was a lot of noise. Dogs barking. Dogs growling. Boys yelling. The sound of running. Sound of falling. Some tripping over the dogs. Dogs yelping. Torchlight beams were swaying violently all over. Possibly if you had really good hearing, you could hear a few curses and a few prayers.

It seemed like an eternity but we were clear of the gauntlet of dogs within a franctic minute. We made it to the top of the stairs and back into the light. The HQ party was there with sticks to keep the dogs at bay. We quickly retreated to the downstairs kitchen where we finally were able to laugh away the adrenaline in our systems. Mission accomplished. We had forty water containers of cool water. Casualties were few; some with thorn injuries, others with bruises and one who had a bad scrape on his knee.

As a precaution against a counterstrike, we had an all-lights blackout for an hour to try to fool the Aussies into thinking we were not in or that we asleep. When the Aussies did not appear, we returned to our merry making with a great deal of boasting and teasing of our individual roles in the great last raid on RAAF Georgetown.

Last Raid on RAAF Georgetown (Part 1)

Like many international incidents, this story had a seemingly innocent beginning. It began with the meticulous 6 month planning of a class of forty independent minded 13 year olds. The objective was to have a week holiday in the island of Penang or the Pearl of the Orient as it was known with minimal supervision.

First, we had to find a suitable place to stay. We searched the classified adverts and found it. The place was an old Catholic clergy retreat facility. The advert said, plenty of beds in small dormitories, large kitchen facilities, space for outdoor games and a sea-view. On top of that all, it was exceedingly cheap. We booked it straight away.

Next we had to find suitable teacher advisors that would satisfy our parents and school regulations and yet allowed us to achieve our objective of minimal supervision. After some negotiations, we recruited Mr. X and Miss. Y. Both of them were from Penang and would rather spend time with family rather than babysit us and so an arrangement was made that Mr. X would meet us every other day in the morning and Ms. Y would keep in touch with us by telephone. That was our understanding, one which we kept secret from both our parents and the school.

We then booked the school bus and worked out our itinerary and all was set for the greatest minimally supervised adventure of our lives.

However, when we finally got to the old Catholic Retreat, we learnt a valuable lesson about the power of advertising and positive spin doctoring. The place was located on a hill and it did indeed have a sea-view from its lofty perch but the beach was in fact almost 30 minutes away by foot down an extremely steep hill. The place itself was a large old wooden mansion. Entry into the building was by the kitchen which occupied all of the ground floor and had tables and benches that could sit at least 60 people and functioning though ancient kitchen utensils. In fact the whole ground floor looked like it came out of a gothic horror movie.

Upstairs, we were pleasantly surprised by a large open hall which ran from the front to the back of the building. It was fantastic; cool and breezy and ideal for all the board games and card games that we wanted to play.

Next we realised that our accommodation was in rooms on either side of the main hall. Into these tiny rooms were packed so many double-decker bunk beds that the Black Hole of Calcutta came to mind. The bunk beds were so ancient that they creaked even if the wind blew. Worse, the springs on the beds were so badly mangled that it hardly gave any support and many of us believed they were custom built for the Hunchback of Notre Dame and apparently his 40 other siblings.

Although there was a small field at the front of the building, we had to be very careful when we played soccer. Just to the left of one of our goal posts was a shrine with a statue of the Virgin Mary. Clearly, we would be in deep trouble if the shrine or statue was damaged. This led to some strange soccer games where the goalkeeper was more concerned about stopping volleys from hitting the shrine than protecting his goal. Also, being on the top of the hill meant that every time the ball was kicked out of bounds, there was a high probability that it would roll all the way down the hill.

It was when we tried to retrieve the ball that we discovered that there was an additional hazard in the form of a pack of stray dogs. If the pack saw only one of us try to retrieve the ball, they would snarl and threaten to attack. So retrieving the ball had to involve at least 3 -4 of us waving sticks which would cause the pack to retreat.

Despite all of these peculiarities, we loved it cause it was an opportunity for adventure without our parents. Just to complete the picture, something must be said about the surroundings. On one side of the hill, was a hospital and though the nurses quarters which was nearby gave us some ideas, it was protected by a barb wire fence and a sharp cliff face. On the other side and near the foot of the hill was a very large and expansive complex of low buildings which formed part of the Royal Australian Air Force Centre in Georgetown, Penang. The facility served the needs of the RAAF personnel based in nearby RAAF Butterworth who flew Mirages and Sabres as part of a South East Asia Treaty Organisation agreement which was meant to counter fears of the Vietnam conflict from spreading and causing a domino effect throughout South East Asia.

To get to this facility, one could take a long way around following the road down the hill but that approach was very closely guarded as it was near the main entrance of that facility. We soon found that there was a short-cut which was in the form of a stairway down the side of the hill from behind our kitchen facility. This was a broad covered cement stairway which had no lights and had dense vegetation at its sides which look like they would recolonise the structure within a couple of years. However, this led straight down to a block of single storey buildings near the heart of the RAAF base.

The scenario was all set. It was only a matter of time before there would be an outburst of hostilities between the 40 young hormonally maladjusted Malaysian school kids and the 5,000 foreign servicemen of the RAAF base. All that was needed was an incident to light the smoldering fuse and it did not take long for that to happen. (continued in next post)


Disclaimer: The names of people and places have been changed to protect the innocent, hide the guilty and because the memory of the author is suspect in certain cases. Other changes have also been made in the name of artistic license. Some facts and truths may have also been distorted or exaggerated in the same tradition as television docu-dramas. That leaves about 50% which are mostly true but I won't swear by it!

Real Life Award

Reception after the Ceremony (Photo by LGS)

Monday the 24th of November 2008 was a very special night for me. Although I have generally avoided talking about my work on this blog, I feel the need to mark this occasion.

At a very special function, which was held at the base of the famous KLCC Twin Towers and which was attended and presided over by the Prime Minister of my country, awards were given out under several categories for outstanding contributions to the country. This was a new national award that was launched last year in conjunction with the 50th year of Independence. The very first inaugural award recipients were named at this function.

There were 5 categories. The first for Community and Education was won by a well known scholar who studied poverty and influenced the development of the country's education system. Another category was for Science and Technology and that was jointly won by a) the medical research team that risked their lives during a fatal disease outbreak which led to them discovering a new disease and b) to a doctor,researcher and lecturer who has greatly influenced diabetes research and treatment in the country. The award for Economic Contributions was given to a gentleman who discovered the way to greatly increase the yield and profitability of the oil palm crop which became a major source of income for the country. There was no award winner this year for the category for Scholastic Achievement.

The final category was for the Environment and it was awarded to the organisation that I work for. I was one of 10 representatives and supporters that were invited to receive the award on behalf of the organisation. It was a great experience. The award recognised the persistent effort of the organisation for more than 14 years which eventually led to the protection of a very large tract of wilderness forest. The award clearly belongs also to all the volunteers and partners that helped along the way.

Standing with all the other award recipients was very memorable as I have a deep respect for all of them (and especially for the medical research team) and therefore felt incredibly blessed to be counted amongst them. The award comes with a RM500,000 cash prize which will be a great help to us as we continue to try to get adjacent forests protected as well. But for me, it has been by far a most welcome encouragement to myself and to all the staff and volunteers that have given their hearts to the cause of conservation of our country's natural heritage.

I had a ball. I am now a little hung-over from the post-adrenaline rush. But the work must now go on. Nose back on the grindstone!

My First!

This post is about my first, my very first .............. stuffed toy. What did you think it was going to be about? I have quite a collection of stuffed toys and toy figurines which were all given to me by friends and loved ones. For some reason, I got a reputation of being a stuffed toy collector and the toys kept coming.

My wife is also a collector and of course, I have contributed to her collection as well. If you could see our bedroom, you will find her menagerie neatly arranged next to her side of the bed and mine in a playful jumble on my side.

My reputation for stuffed toys started with a few which came as gifts from close friends and took off from there. My very first one was very special as it was hand made by my girlfriend, Julie, at that time. Although it has seen better days and is a little tattered, it still holds a lot of sentimental value for me.



This picture which was uncovered from a current archeological dig, shows a very much younger me posing with the stuffed animal perched on my shoulder. I was a student living in University accommodation at Chelsea College, London, England. This photo is very important for two reasons. One, it shows the object of the post today and two, it is scientific proof that I was skinny once!

Anyway, if you have not already guessed, the animal on my shoulder is a penguin. No ordinary penguin, mind you! He goes by the grand name of Oliver Noona-Nanook of the North. He was dubbed "Oliver" in remembrance of a trip that Julie and I had shared on a boat named the "Cromwell". I am sure most of you would know about Oliver Cromwell from English history. "Nanook of the North" was actually the world's first full length documentary and was about an Inuit and his family in the Canadian artic and was filmed in 1922. It was just a way in my crazy mind to link the poor little chap to his frozen northern heritage. Finally, "Noona" was just added as it sounded like a nice accompaniment to "Nanook". Also, my friend, Helen the Greek Goddess, told me it was a term of endearment in Greek. While she was not always the best source for reliable information, I used it anyway.

And so, Oliver Noona-Nanook of the North was christened. Needless to say, it did not take long for him to be called by the shorter pet name of "Ollie". So he became, Ollie the penguin.

Over the years, I have also had "Cedric the Snake" (cause bureaucrats are snakes and Cedric sounds like a bureaucrat's name)and Tubby (the cap wearing rabbit-bear thingey, on account of his pot-belly, just to name a couple.

My wife's collection is much larger but two recent acquirements were a couple of bears dressed in the style of the Roaring Twenties which she got on special offer at Starbucks. Very imaginatively, she named the female bear, "Starr" and the male bear, "Bucks".

What strange animals cuddle next to you in your sleep? .....And please no jokes at the expense of your spouses.