COOKIE..!! (Ahrm ahrrm ahrrm arrm...)

For the first time in my life, I voluntarily decided to bake cookies. Last time I baked was in secondary one home economics class, very nearly twenty years ago. The things kids drive you to do... Matt's cooped up at home with the rest of us chicken pox cases (luckily very mild ones, less than 5 visible spots each), so I thought we'd try something fun.

Well the recipe (idiot proof one on the back of the Hershey's chocolate chips packaging) was quite a big one, so I made to halve it. I certainly don't see us finishing all 5 dozen cookies as it promised to make! We actually had a roll of cookie sheeting and an electric hand-held whisk in the house already, so after Sean brought home the other ingredients, it was show time!

Expectedly, I forgot to halve the sugar and eggs, and dolloped the mix onto the tray too close, so it all ran together and became one big slab. Luckily still quite tasty! The second batch turned out rather better - with some flour added to the remaining mix, it was less runny, and we put them a little farther apart and Matt popped a Hershey's kiss on each one. I'm proud to say we have one solitary proper cookie, the rest were still connected here and there but were easily separated with a spoon before they cooled and hardened completely.

Anyway, they're out there cooling on the wire racks now, and I've to fend off Matt who's trying to steal them.

(No) wonder(,) woman!

We happened to flip the TV channel to a re-run of Wonder Woman last Sunday morning. Matthew watched Linda Carter in action for a while, robustly full figured in her strapless top and satiny maxi-style, uh, shorts.

"Is that Superwoman?", he finally asked.

"No Matt, that's Wonder Woman."

He continued to watch a bit more.

"Is Wonder Woman Superman's mommy?"

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And what does an engineer say when he sees a not-so-well-endowed woman clad Hawaiian style in only shells and a grass skirt?

"The radius of the coconuts are too small."

Ford Focus MkII

I’d been anticipating this drive for so long, it felt strange when the moment finally came. Not that the car was weird or anything, I just wondered if it justified all the hoopla surrounding it…

Legacy
You see, my trusty MkI (but facelifted) Focus has done valiant duty for over three years and 115,000 km now, surviving the occasional g-force abuse and repeated snide comments about reliability and resale value along the way. It’s not let me down yet, and needless to say, I love it to bits. The adventurous styling still looks fresh after more than six years into production, the cabin and boot space are right up there with the best, the controls are simply-laid out with flawless ergonomics, and of course, there’s the drive.

Much has been written about the way the Focus rewrote the rulebooks regarding the way a mass-market family car should negotiate bends, so I’ll be brief. You will search in vain for a more finely honed front-drive chassis costing similar money, or for more precise and confidence-inspiring steering, regardless of asking price. Saying it was the class dynamic benchmark was like saying Michael Jordan was a decent basketball player.

But as with all things, it’s not perfect. The clutch has a high-ish biting point that takes getting used to, the low-speed ride is a little fidgety, wind and road noise kick in surprisingly early, and the 99hp engine lacks low-end grunt. Niggles for sure, and one that left me wondering about the follow-up, especially since the competition has closed the gap considerably in recent years.

Re-introduction
Wednesday was my first meeting with MkII. I can’t say it was love at first sight, because in my mind, the original still looks better. Each line and crease had purpose and destination, while the new car is a smoothened chocolate bar by comparison. Oh, and did someone say ‘Mondeo’? We had a chance to see both siblings side by side, and I’m convinced Ford saved a lot of design time by simply shrinking the Mondy’s front and rear lights, and morphing the bigger car to fit the new Ford/Volvo/Mazda chassis. After making cutting edge looks acceptable to the mainstream, this is nothing short of a regression. It manages to be handsome especially on the lovely five-spoke 17” wheels, but the Renault Megane and Opel Astra are far more striking.

Inside things are just as conservative. In an effort to out-Golf the Golf, Ford has gone the whole hog to make the dash look, well, boring. Straight lines and right angles replace swoops and slashes, and only anoraks would be able to see the oval vents as a visual nod to the previous car. The major controls are quite lovely to touch, and the top of the dash is moulded from soft feel materials. But move away from the driver’s personal space and things start turning quite grim. Scratchy plastics on the doors and ill-fitting door handle surrounds aren’t convincing at all.

And what’s this – blank switches? Now while most of you will not be surprised at having buttons in cars that don’t actually do anything, let it be known that my Focus has no blanks at all, and not because it was top-spec either. When a particular function wasn’t available, what the designers did was to combine two switches into one big button, rendering the whole ‘blank’ problem moot. And now… um, I’ve already said ‘regression’, haven’t I?

But my biggest static problem with the new car is the boot. Sure, the sedan is now actually prettier than the hatch (an odd reversal of fortunes compared with the MkI), but with the less frumpy looks there’s only 465 litres of luggage space, compared with the previous 490 litres. And what’s worse, it will not be able to swallow my daughter’s child seat upright, due to the reduced height. The hatch claims the largest boot in it’s class, on the other hand – 385 litres – and while it’s deep, it could again benefit from being a little taller. Blame the inclusion of a full size spare then.

So I walked away that day feeling slightly disappointed. It would need to produce a hell of a drive to impress.

Acid Test
At last on Saturday I got to do more than prod and poke at the plastics. Launch day saw us being ushered into a darkened room with loud music and lots of smoke. And amidst all the rah-rah-ing, the black curtain pulled back to reveal more static cars. Great. I left the others to ooh and ahh, and headed straight for a test drive. Along the way, I struck up a conversation with another current Focus owner, who agreed with my less-than-glowing initial impressions of the car. Sharing the same SE, he hopped into the test car as well when my turn came up. Not a wise move, my friend…

Now it may look different, but the new cabin certainly works as well as the old. If anything, there’s a better all-round range of adjustment for both seat and wheel, so I can avoid the slightly high-perched driving position of my own car. A wheelbase stretch of 25mm to 2640mm also means those at the back are just that bit more comfortable. And the middle rear passenger isn’t subjected to a head massage from the roof lining, an affliction of both the Volvo and Mazda cousins.

The information display between the chrome-ringed dials is a useful step up, telling you exactly which door isn’t properly closed, and thus avoiding those embarrassing circling-and-slamming routines I’ve had to endure. The left indicator stalk lets you fool around with the standard trip computer’s geeky details, while at the same time switches the gearbox’s behaviour between ‘Adaptive’ and ‘Sport’. I left it in the latter setting and hoped for the best.

The autobox allows for manual shifts, as well as the lazy ‘D’. The good news is that the quality of the shifts are excellent – butter-smooth and near-indiscernible. The bad news is that the speed of gear-swapping leaves much to be desired – I guess by ‘Sport’ Ford must have been referring to chess.

Not that the engine helped much. In yet another brilliant marketing move, Regent Motors decided to bring in the weedy 100hp engine variant, as opposed to its high-tech, variable-valve timing 115hp alternative. So between the gearbox’s leisurely responses, powerplant’s lack of power and the extra weight, you could quite rightly conclude that building up momentum isn’t one of the new Focus’ fortes.

But once at speed things brighten considerably. The cabin remains quiet and relaxed, apart from a little engine noise. The new electro-hydraulic steering works well, and being speed-sensitive means that it remains light at parking speeds, while weighting up nicely at higher velocities. Slowing down is not a problem either, the brakes being both meaty and progressive. And very effective – the afore-mentioned Focus owner must have regretted his decision to join me when I did an unannounced ABS test.

And when we entered some corners, the Focus really rolled up its sleeves and dug in. The chassis at once stable and nimble, with fabulous body control, accomplishing whatever you ask of it without batting an eyelid. It comes with ESP (Electronic Stability Programme) as standard, and the system reacts to on-the-limit situations such as a wet road, by easing off the throttle and braking the appropriate wheels where necessary. It works flawlessly but I suspect on a dry road under good circumstances one could do without it, because the balance of the car is so inherently predictable.

I attacked the same corner a couple of times, going faster each round, but the Focus just tucked in and shrugged it off, providing fine adjustability all the way. When the chassis, steering, throttle and brakes work in concert like this, you have more time to think and react to the conditions, instead of fighting the car’s waywardness. And that is why I’ll take active safety over a gazillion airbags any day.

The one dynamic disappointment was the level of absolute grip available - I took on the same bends in my car after the test and pulled through with much less squealing rubber. Okay, I’ll put that down to the comfort-oriented nature of the test car’s tyres and their higher profile (195/65-15 vs 195/60-15 of the MkI). The new Focus looks like a sissy anyway on 15” wheels, upgrade to 16”s or better yet 17”s if you get the chance.

Decisions
The Focus sedan costs $76,900 at launch, while the hatch commands an additional $1,000 premium. At this price, the Megane and Astra are it’s closest competition. Citroen’s C4 should be in the fight, but is absurdly $10,000 dearer, straying perilously close the Golf territory. If one was looking for a hatch, I’d have to bite my lip and go with the Opel. It’s far better-looking than the Focus, is generally better finished inside, and more importantly, has a superior engine gearbox combination. The Renault has the most comfortable ride of the bunch and the most toys, but the shortened wheelbase compared with the saloon robs it of valuable space.

However,there isn’t an Astra 4 door (yet), so if a sedan is needed then the choice is between the Focus and Megane. Here the French car wins the space race, especially in the boot, which is positively massive. The Focus though is not just wheeled transport, it’s a driving tool. And for keen drivers you still cannot find a better car in its class. The newcomer has been honed to achieve a refinement the MkI lacked, and yet its dynamic attributes are as precise as ever. I know I’d pick the Focus, but it wins only by a razor-thin margin.

Kimi's Humour

I love reading Kimi Raikkonen's press conferences, watching them are another matter - his mumbles are mostly indecipherable, so I leave those to the experts to translate. Anyway, he's no toastmaster, so his answers tend to be totally to the point, and refreshingly-free from BS. Here's another gem, taken from Wednesday's Monaco GP pre-race press conference. This journalist obviously hasn't been following the 2003-4 seasons, where McLaren's spectacular unreliability resulted in many a thrown steering wheel and pushed marshall...

Q: (Byron Young - Speed Sport News) Kimi, have you ever got angry about anything, and jumped up and down and shouted?
Raikkonen: Yeah, many times but of course you're not happy if you retire or something but I guess it mostly happens more in normal life than in racing.
Q: (Byron Young - Speed Sport News) Can you give us examples?
Raikkonen: No, not really.
Q: (Byron Young - Speed Sport News) What are the kind of things that make you angry in normal life, as you say?
Raikkonen: If you keep asking (questions like those)...

Heartbeat

According to Matthew, hearing his own heartbeat through the stethescope when playing doctor-and-patient means that "Jesus is playing drums in my heart".

Alt - Episodes II+III

I've never been satisfied that Padme fell for Anakin. He's SO infantile. It should have been this way instead:

Obi-Wan, being the cool dude he is, most naturally captures the heart of likewise mature and responsible Padme. She opens her heart to him hoping against hope that they will somehow find a way to be together although he is a celibate Jedi. However, being SO good, he remains true to his vocation and will not allow their mutual love to be fulfilled.

Anakin meanwhile also falls for Padme, and taking advantage of her hurt, wins her over with his selfish persistence. He doesn't realise that she finally accepts him only because she had to show Obi-Wan that she really didn't care about him, to salvage her fatally wounded feelings and pride.

Then one fine day when Anakin is baring his soul to Padme about his temptation by the Dark Side (after a lot of build up showing how it's trying to lure him), she grows totally disgusted with his self-absorption and drops the bombshell that Obi-Wan would never have even been tempted. Anakin realises she has continued to love Obi-Wan all this time. He watches her carefully, (they still have dealings with Obi-Wan), and one day confronts her in a terrible showdown. She breaks, weeping openly for Obi-Wan for the very first time.

And THAT's why Anakin turned to the Dark Side.

Sad thing is, Padme will not allow herself to leave Anakin even though she loves Obi-Wan, because her children are Anakin's, and she will not betray the father of her children. But she pines away, and on her deathbed she tells Obi-Wan that she wishes the children were his.

There. I for the life of me can't see how Padme could possibly have fallen for Anakin, the way he was portrayed in the actual Episode II. Also, sheer hunger for power alone is unlikely to be enough to turn a man completely evil. I think the emotional angle is a lot more plausible - there's got to be a great enough trigger that tipped the scales and allowed the Dark Side to finally get hold of him - because of his anger and hate. That's how they get at people, not merely by promising power and glory alone. You've got to start with anger. Which turns to hate. Leading to suffering.

The pox!

Matt's got it. Minimal treatment. I went and got the shot, yes, post-exposure, but better than nothing. We'll be taking Sarah for it tonight. He's ok so far, and understands very well about not scratching. Hope he can keep it up. He'll have to miss Dad's and Nicole's baptism this Saturday, and his school sports day that same day, basically quarantined for two weeks or until the scabs are fully crusted/fallen off.

UPDATE Thu 12 May 2005: I brought Sarah and our helper for their jabs last night. Sarah didn't complain at all at the doctor's, in fact she immediately climbed up on the examining table, pulled up her shirt to expose her belly and lay there waiting for the doctor. Not a peep from her when the dose was administered. But she cried like mad at home when we removed the little plaster before her bath! Goodness. Anyway, now it's fingers crossed the vaccine works on all of us.

4 years old

Yup, he's that. We had a little tub of chocolate ice cream with four lighted candles on it to celebrate, last night. And a McDonald's party at the West Coast branch last Friday evening with his classmates and cousins. Has it been this fast?

Some gems he can come up with, when we explained death to him at Pope John Paul II's recent passing: "Why God is so good, make people die?"

Or, "Daddy, I want eternal life!" OK to be fair he's actually asking for that Jeff Buckley song to be played on the car stereo.

To me, he said once, "When you eat too much, you'll get a baby." To me, mind. "If daddy eats too much he'll just grow bigger".

And he's become quite good with remote-controlled toy cars and Tocar and Colin McRae and Need For Speed - Sean's got a Logitech steering wheel and pedals set which Matt operates with ease now.

Just Said No

Received an email from ST Interactive this morning. Seems they're not happy letting us read their wonderful news for free, never mind that there's a troublesome registration to undertake first. Now they're going to charge $96 for six months, or $12 a month. That works out to an average of 40 cents a day, or fully half of the street cost of the hardcopy that includes printing and shipping costs, as well as vendor mark-ups. For less content than the print edition. Makes cents, doesn't it?

Anyhoo, here's my reply to them:

"Dear STi,

This is a mistake. I'm not going to subscribe, and neither are a majority of your (needlessly-) registered users. About the only reason I read ST is for the forum, to understand what local people feel and want. I do not care for filtered, 'approved' news, fluff gossip, nor inadequate tech info. Extending a pathetic three-day history to seven is also insulting - if self-financed sites can store a huge archive of past data, what more the sixth-largest publicly-listed company in Singapore, especially when it charges a subscription!

The very fact that I'm using the web means that I have access to far more impartial news, from richly-divergent viewpoints. The best filter is my brain, which I fully intend to use. So much for being net-savvy, ST..."

Life's Little Pleasures

Singapore is breathtaking when seen from 70 storeys up, all lit up at night.

Sean and I were treated to this sight at Equinox, Swissotel the Stamford, when we spent our special night out there. With this one meal we celebrated several things: his birthday (of last year, kids were too sick back then), his raise, passing my exams of last semester, my birthday, and our blessed life in general. Good food, good conversation, one couldn't have asked for more. OK maybe we could have asked for more of that mudcrab and ebi starter, or the fabulous beef cheek and steak. I was also happy to put on for the first time a strapless dress and be able to pull it off. But only figuratively, mind!

Sean gave me "The Glimpses of the Moon" which I've read at least twice off my Sony CLIE, downloaded from Project Gutenberg, a great online book resource. It was the perfect gift. The story is a charming and deeply insightful one, starring a couple of young, poor, and popular people experimenting with marriage in the world of the wealthy and free-wheeling Americans of the 1920's. Their "plight" certainly strikes some chords, but my heart is truly satisfied with the unpredictable ending. No spoilers here, never fear - I leave it to everyone to discover for himself the awesome writing of Edith Wharton.

Starting School

To start the year of the Lord 2005 with, Matthew is going to school! He's been enrolled at Cherrybrook Kindergarten, and will begin on 15 February. School will last four hours from 8:30 in the morning. We'll drive him there on our way to work and a schoolbus will take him home. I'm so excited!

U2 and Radiohead

Ok, maybe I’ve been thinking too much, but don’t you see the similarities between the two bands? They both hail from the British isles, formed the ‘traditional’ way (ie: not manufactured), are primarily guitar-driven, have charismatic lead singers, give wicked live performances and can arguably stake claim to the title of the World’s Biggest Rock Band.

But things run deeper still. Both released amazing rock albums (U2’s Joshua Tree and Radiohead’s The Bends) that cemented their signature sound, then felt the need to re-examine themselves in light of the success and adulation that followed. What happened next divides them from the huge list of also-rans and wannabes in the music industry – they showed the world what they were really capable of when the pressure was on.

Both bands threw aside their rock roots and embraced synthesized sound, and in so doing produced what are considered their seminal albums – Achtung Baby and Ok Computer (yes, I know Rattle & Hum is in there with some brilliant songs, but I don’t really count it among their full albums), redefining in the process our perception of what a pop/rock album is.

And from there things get even stranger. The following two releases from each group delved deeper into electronica, confounding critics and alienating traditional fans. Zooropa/Pop and Kid A/Amnesiac could be seen as the culmination of experimentation the bands felt they had to go through with, to truly discover who they were.

Coming out of this soul-searching period, they produced what were 'back-to-roots' releases – All That You Can’t Leave Behind and Hail To The Thief – yet one could tell that they were irreversibly changed. Both were received with a huge sigh of relief from most camps.

And now U2 has a new album in the stores, similar in concept to the last, but so forthright and earnest, one can even detect strains from the early Boy-War days. I’d say they’re now more comfortable with themselves musically than they ever have been. Bono’s voice, while sounding hoarse at times, rings so clear emotionally you’d forgive him just about anything. And the Edge is back at what he does best – influencing the mood and texture of a song with microdynamics, instead of big chord changes.

What then for Radiohead? They were always more off-centre, more abstract, more willing to take the bigger risk not just with sound but song structure. Their lyrics tackled personal neuroses as opposed to U2’s big issues. And Thom Yorke is far more introspective than larger-than-life Bono. Genius or paranoid android? In my opinion both are crucial to Radiohead’s music, and are almost inter-dependent. Instead of hiding them, Yorke has let his eccentricities drive the tone of the band, resulting in pure honesty. And that, like what U2 has done in their own way, is what good music is about.

Ass-mar

If anyone remembers Piggy, Jack who can sing C#, Ralph, and the conch, you'll know what I'm talking about.

My baby's got it. Weep buckets. No, actually it's not all that bad. I guess. Wipe tears. I just have to get used to it. Sniffle. This has been the second attack in two months (see Retraction) and I desperately dread another panicked drive down to KKH in the middle of the night.

This time they let us take her home, although they would have preferred to ward her. But we must have seemed sane and safe enough to be entrusted with the task of dosing her every interval with the syrups and inhaler+aerochamber (got cute bear picture somemore). Thanks be to God, she's gotten over it in a shorter time than before, getting in her daily naps, with no other sick kiddies around to contract worse things from.

But we've now made an appointment to see the bestest seniorest specialistest consultant in Singapore (at least I think so) and I'm not going to come away with anything less than the latest most wonderful arsenal of whatever it takes to beat down another attack before it even starts.

Baby's variant appears to be viral triggered, so that'll mean avoiding any sickiness. Tell me about it - this episode erupted thanks to non-thinking relatives bringing a sick child to MIL's birthday dinner. What d'you expect! It's been a week of near heart attacks for me, but they're back to apparent normality again. So I've bought myself a new foundation. Maybelline's Wonder Finish (no la, cannot afford Chanel anymore). What to do. Still must live, right?

BTW with all that talk flying about local blogs merely recording boring personal trivia and contributing nothing to political awareness, well, this is MY blog so I get to say whatever I want on it. And right now, all I really want to say is "Sucks to your ass-mar!!!" (Baby, I mean that in a good way ok, targetting the condition, not you, ok? *hug-bug*)

Review: Peugeot 407

The power of marketing is indisputable. Advertisements create previously unrecognised needs as much as they reinforce awareness. And regardless of a product’s actual merits, a slick campaign (with a little help from cool styling) can be essential to creating that elusive ‘want one’ factor.

Take Peugeot for example. Never sold well in Singapore, but they’re still sponsoring prime TV shows like the recently-departed Friends. And with excellent ads too – who can forget for instance, the Tata being beaten into a 206 look-alike by its proud owner? And now the 407 is being featured in the new ‘Playtime is over’ series, again banking mostly on the car’s striking looks to instil automotive lust into viewers’ hearts. The question must be asked though: Is it any good under the skin?

There’s no denying the feline shape is distinctive. A snout this long hasn’t been seen on a new car in ages, but get used to it. Because firstly, increasingly-stringent pedestrian impact laws will necessitate space between bonnet/bumper and engine; and next, Peugeot actually makes it look good, without enlarging the rest of the proportions in the name of ‘visual balance’.



How is it done? Well, the windscreen is so steeply raked that the driving position has to be pushed way back to prevent decapitation upon entry/exit. The entire glasshouse is also pulled forward to mask the front immense overhang. Unfortunately, the combination of these two factors results in a squashed cabin. As can be seen from other recent examples, a cab-forward stance does liberate cabin space, but it all goes to the useless area between windscreen and dashboard, instead of truly benefiting passengers.

A car with a 2725mm wheelbase should be a lot more spacious than this – as it is, the Peugeot struggles to better a Civic for rear legroom, compounded by the limited foot space under the front seats. The driver has it better, with both room and a wide range of seat/steering wheel adjustments to ensure decent comfort.

Another shocker comes after figuring out how to open the boot – there are no obvious buttons or latches anywhere, and the secret lies in a button hidden in the numbered badge, very nifty – you are greeted with a truly unforgivable 407 litre space. Never mind that it is well shaped or conceals a full-sized spare – it is a full 160 litres or 30% smaller than a Camry’s. That difference alone is larger than a Mini’s total boot capacity.

And what’s with the dreadful 206-standard materials on the dash, wiper stalks and door handles? Even the roof lining flexes when you push the interior light buttons. This is a 2.0l vehicle, for goodness’ sake! Cars from the class below would be ashamed to be clad with such grades of plastics nowadays. Arch-rival Renault has on the other hand really upped their game in this respect, taking the fight right to Volkswagen, the benchmark when it comes to interior trim.

Disappointments continue when you continue to look around the cabin. The passenger glovebox is close to astonishingly tiny, due to the fuse box that takes up half the space. Also, the lever to open the bonnet also resides on the passenger side, making it inconvenient to do simple oil checks. Both I suspect are due to poor planning for RHD conversion, seeing that the UK is probably Peugeot’s only major RHD market.



Two versions are brought in, with 2.0l and 2.2l engines. In addition to a larger displacement the latter also adds 17” rims (compared with 16”), dual zone climate control, chrome accents on the rubbing strips, rear armrest, as well as rain, light and tyre pressure sensors. All for an $8,000 premium over the 2.0litre’s $107,900 price tag. Electric front seats can also be specified in the larger-engined car, for another $2,000.

We tested the 138bhp 2.0 litre, partly because of the SE’s assertion that there isn’t much difference between the two engines, and partly due to the rain outside, which would have negated any power advantage.

It’s never a good sign when a salesperson makes excuses for a product before you have commented on it, but this was precisely what happened here. The engine’s low-ish power was explained as being offset by high torque, which is stretching the truth somewhat. 190Nm is no better than class average, and while perfectly tractable when cruising around, the entire performance of the engine is really nothing worth shouting about.

The four-speed auto gearbox allows for Tiptronic-style manual shifts, which is how you will use it to get anywhere in a hurry. Because its regular brain is simply too indecisive to deal with anything between the laziest and most manic throttle inputs. Decide that you want to go two notches faster, and it stays in the same gear for a while, hesitates, then decides to shift down. By which time any window of opportunity for overtaking has long gone.

The steering is not too bad, light and responsive. And turning into a corner proves to be a fuss-free experience, the chassis providing a fair amount of precision to do what you ask of it. It’s a pity the wet roads prevented us from exploring its dynamic capabilities further, but I really wonder how that would change my mind about the car as a whole.

I’m still quite perplexed as to how much has been sacrificed in the name of style. It’s like Peugeot spent all their money on good stylists and forgot about the basics.



Now, if I really needed to spend this kind of money on a car, and put driving pleasure at a premium, I’d look straight at the Alfa Romeo 156 JTS – equally cramped, but with a really special engine, cabin and driving experience.

But perhaps the most damning thing I can do is to compare the 407 with Renault’s Megane, another Gallic offering that costs $25,000 less, and should be in the class below. Sure, the Megane is 17% down on power in theory, but in the real world it’s hardly noticeable. What’s more, it matches or even betters the Peugeot in most of the crucial areas, including space, quality, safety, ride comfort and gadget count. One would be daft not to consider the extraordinary value that one offers over the other.

Playtime is indeed over. Peugeot needs to get serious if they want to sell on more than just good looks and a nice slogan.

Letter to ST Forum: Mixed media

Here's another one sent to ST Forum today.
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I refer to the forum letter by Mdm Kay Ren Tse on 18 October 2004.

I totally agree with her observation that the good and the salacious are all too confusingly mixed up in our local media, such that monitoring what I and my children see and hear has become a task of exacting vigilance.

Watching TV nowadays, with or without the children, almost always involves sitting ready with the remote control in hand, so that I can immediately switch the channel when the advertisements come on. Even during toddler programmes on Kids Central, we get advertisements promoting plays about homosexuality or cross-dressing, to name a few, not to mention the frequently aired trailers for violent and sexual late night programmes on Channel 5 which pepper all their earlier timed offerings.

Because of this, and as a working parent, I have since implemented a blanket ban on all airtime TV programmes for my young children, save a very select few, simply because I cannot expect their grandmother or the maid to sit there monitoring everything for them when I am out at work.

It is also virtually impossible to take a journey by public transport, of any kind, without seeing a woman or man clad only in underwear somewhere along the way. Our MRT stations and bus-stops are full of these pictures, as are the underground passes in the shopping districts where parents often bring their young children on weekends.

At the end of the day, I really can't see how such common and open displays of nakedness and violence in Singapore is in anyway indicative of societal progress, much as those who are clamouring for more "liberation" may argue. I would think that progress involves an uplifting of the human condition, in both mind, body and spirit. Progress is most certainly not to be found in the debasement of people through violence or the blatant exploitation of women's bodies just to sell some products.

Letter to ST Forum - PSLE Slaughter?

I sent this to Straits Times after reading quite a few letters from parents whose children came out of the PSLE papers crying.

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I'm rather put out to read that a number of students sitting the PSLE papers this year came out crying. I suppose this must happen every year but if recent reports are anything to go by, this year's papers appear to be especially killing.

First of all, why are these students so unable to deal with a situation that appears not to be in their favour? Are they so used to achieving all their goals and so conditioned to find failure and imperfection unthinkable that a simple matter of not being able to answer each and every question can so easily break them, to bring on tears?

It would have been a lot more reassuring to have read that they can console themselves for having done their best, and being truly content and comforted with that despite the tough papers. I would then know that we have a generation of tough young people growing up. But that was not the case.

I'm deeply concerned that the drilling and grilling that these students have been put through in the past year has only been focused on driving them to believe that failure or imperfection is not acceptable. If so, parents and teachers had better beware that such methods and emphasis are simply doing these children a great disservice: it is setting them up for a lifetime of continued disappointment and dissatisfaction. After all, whoever has heard of a life with not a single failure or imperfection in it? If students cannot cope with an artifically set up situation such as an exam, what more the much harder real life issues that come up later on?

And so what if they do not get the cut-off points to enter that very secondary school that they (or more likely their parents) have been eyeing? There are lots of schools in Singapore which offer a very decent secondary education, not just that small handful deemed good enough.

Secondly, why worry about the outcome when the entire cohort of Primary 6 pupils are taking the very same tests? This simply means that upon marking, the distinction between students and their abilities will be made all the clearer, and I can bet that the scores will be moderated such that the top students will still get their fair share of A*s whether or not their actual mark is 91/100 or higher. It will all be adjusted and scaled accordingly in the end.

I do wish parents and students alike can look beyond the immediate goal of merely answering every question correctly. No doubt an easy paper will allow this, but so also will just about everyone taking the paper do equally well. Then what's the point of having an exam if it can't scale the students's abilities meaningfully?

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Thank you for the amnesia - ahem, ahem

We're all not sick. No one is in hospital or on any medication. Eating, sleeping fine. It's quite amazing really. I'm impressed. Keep me that way!

Can't imagine or remember just how exacting it gets when any one or more of us are down with something. And we've only been all four clear a day ago, but I've already forgotten. And even thinking about K-Bunny. At least that's what Matthew says he wants another brother baby to be called.

I suppose it's a blessing to have only memory for the happy things. Honestly, I can't remember horrors, or at least they become dismissably inconsequential when things are coasting again. Sean's fever miraculously disappeared when Sunday dawned, and we actually all went swimming in the afternoon. Today it's like it all never happened, that started with Sarah having to be admitted to KKH.

But at the back of my mind lurks the fear of her showing asthma signs. The slightest cough or sniffle triggers our awareness alarm - and we start staring and feeling at her chest or listening with ear pressed to her back. It's getting rather a strain so we're taking her to work out a future action plan with our newfound family doctor tonight. It's great we've been classmates and they're so conveniently situated and available.

Anyway, just a few words of gratitude for having passed through the valley, and truly, as promised, it feels like we're soaring.

Depressed?

Are you? Do you feel a tightness in your chest, that you're holding your breath, food's a turn-off, sleep won't come at night, and you can't seem to remember what it's like to feel normal and not afraid?

Not to worry. Yaright. Really. It passes. I'm psyching myself. I know how it feels. But so far it has always passed. Hearing now that Matt is no longer hot and Sarah isn't coughing is also very consoling. I just wish breathing was a bit easier, and the headaches wouldn't keep coming back. It'd be also good not to feel dizzy just turning my head round to look at something.

Whine whine whine, gripe gripe gripe. It gets boring after a while though. Can I go to sleep now? Anarax! My favourite painkiller + relaxant. Have to save them for the nights.

Tomorrow is supposed Sarah's jab + zoo trip. Hmm. Can we make it? Will Matthew be recovered enough? 5 days of high fever (39.6) that comes down with panadol or ibuprofen and absolutely no other symptoms. Eating drinking sleeping pooping peeing playing well. How do you figure that? Tests are clear too. Damn the virus.

Sarah can't sleep with us at night. Drove us nuts and me sick. So Matt's with us instead. Don't want them sleeping in the same room while there's any chance of her catching the same thing from Matt.

Very sorry isn't it, each one coming down in turn. But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength, and they shall mount up on eagles wings. Cool.

Nature's balm

Well, Sarah's happily at home now, although I think she was just as happy in hospital, so thoroughly engrossed with the comings and goings in our little section that she got only half her usual amount of daily sleep. I personally think that really slowed down her recovery.

That's my one grouse about the whole hospitalisation thing actually, everything else was done so well. They just seem to have no regard for sleep at all - time for dose means must dose. You can imagine what that does when it's 2 or 3 hrly throughout the night. And 6:30 am means turn on all the lights and draw back all the cubicle curtains with a great flourish, even though it's still pitch dark outside. Just so the nurses can change shifts. I thought they were nuts.

Anyway, I'm just glad she's home. And I'm so thankful to be sleeping in my own bed again instead of the safari fold-out so thoughtfully provided in the kiddy wards.

Now we can look forward to our postponed zoo trip next week - Sarah hasn't been yet! And Matthew is saying he hasn't seen giraffes before, and I was wondering until someone confirmed that they've been moved to the night safari. So no giraffes in the day zoo. But the elephants do double duty and amble over to the night safari when the zoo closes - I find that so cute.

Retraction

Sarah's in hospital. She and Matt hadn't been well since last weekend, with the runny nose, slight cough, slight temperature - you know, the usual flu-zy symptoms. But as Matthew improved, our girl kept getting more congested, and on Monday (that's yesterday) we could hear her wheezing. What's more, her chest kept getting sucked in deeply everytime she took a laboured breath. Not good.

Lu took her to the clinic downstairs in the afternoon, where the doc prescribed oral ventolin, with the option of returning the next evening for a follow-up. By her bedtime though, it became obvious to us that we couldn't wait for the next evening. She was strangely hyper, yapping away with each successive breath, refusing to clam down. This is the same girl who usually strains towards her cot right after her prayers, thumb already in mouth.

We drove to KK Women's and Children's hospital, not knowing if we were being responsible and safe, or overly kiasu.

There's something unnerving about walking into a children's A&E area. Five years ago I would have stood there and nonchalantly viewed the patients as sick/injured children. Now as a parent, I can't help but get emotionally involved - they're someone's sick/injured child, and there's something unnatural about a young person who isn't whole. I saw it in the eyes of every mother and father I passed - that slightest hint of helplessness and disbelief, while trying to be strong for their kids.

The kids themselves were largely oblivious to this concern, when they weren't in an obvious state of discomfort. One boy was telling his mother the names of the dinosaurs on the large mural in the waiting room, while our little princess just kept on chattering non-stop.

Turns out she has something called bronchiolitis, and if that sounds like bronchitis, it's no coincidence. According to Dr Greene's website: "Bronchitis is inflammation of the large airways in the chest and pneumonia is inflammation of the lung. Bronchiolitis is inflammation of the smaller airways connecting the two."

Funnily enough, bronchiolitis is supposed to be more common in formula-fed males, which would make my breast-fed daughter seem very unlucky indeed. Unless you take into account the genetic factor, which puts the asthma-prone at high risk. Okay, I had asthma as a baby, and I guess my 'bad genes' got passed down. Would you consider that a sin of the father?

Anyway, I'm just glad that there's an explanation for the sharp concave shape her chest took on when she breathed, which by the way is known as a retraction. Of course I'm equally glad that the inhaler medication has all but gotten rid of that nasty symptom, a sure sign that her breathing's much better.

Sarah's interval between puffs (I know, it sounds drug-related. Waitaminit... duh... these are drugs we're talking about) has increased from two hours to three. But they can't discharge her until it gets to six hours, which is why she has to be warded for observation.

Lu and I are now taking turns being with her; she on the night shift and me during the day. Which explains why I'm sitting here typing this at home when I should be fast asleep. Unfortuantely I'm also downloading a ton of work stuff from my company's ftp site, so I guess I have no choice really. I also have to be up for a 7am conference call relating to this ftp nonsense, so there's a fat chance of getting sufficient rest.

You know, we were supposed to be on leave today, for a family zoo trip. Funny how these things turn out.