More Rallies?

There's a mail going around saying that there will be more street rallies in Kuala Lumpur in the month of December. That bothers me not. What is worrying is the action of the Royal Police force in mounting road blockades into the city days before the previous rally on Nov. 25. Days! And so from 6:30 a.m. onwards, traffic is at a crawl about 18 kilometers from the city centre. It's not as if anyone broadcasting publicly could even announce pompously, "Please take public transport." There's no option, really. In the nine years since the 1998 Commonwealth Games, when there was a flurry of activities to build the LRT, what have been put up since then? The monorail was revived. Note, revived after being delayed for years. So here we are, still driving one to a car into the city. Unless you are important enough to have a driver. Then it's you and your driver. Or if you're even more important, with some outriders.
Yesterday, at 7:30 p.m., with a drizzle following hours of rain, it was chock-a-block traffic along Jalan Tun Razak, coming into the city. I was heading out, and saw the blue beacon flashing away in the opposite direction. No sirens, to bigshot's credit. But one outrider was about 3 car-length ahead of the limousine, and he was pointing at a stationary Kancil, directing the car to move however many inches away to the side. And this was where four cars were abreast in a two-lane road. Don't get it? Come accompany me on my drive home from the majestic twin towers one evening. You pick the time, I'll drive. Better be one to enjoy my company or my kind of music (Norah Jones for now), cos two weeks ago, it was 50 minutes from the KLCC car park to the end of a less-than-1km-tunnel out of the carpark. Have a good weekend!

Sayings, Fuel, Police

Theirs is not to ask why, theirs is to do and die.

What a saying eh? This is how I feel at work somedays. Like today. When a higher ranking person wanted the first paragraph written a certain way. I said no. He said I can protest to my direct boss and the direct boss can deal with him. Arrogance at its peak? It was all very polite though. The higher-ranking person does respect my views but today he was stubborn, adamant. So was I. hahaha. So I did as he told me to but didn't proceed to publish the item. I went back to him and he budged when I showed how silly we'd all look (albeit done in a nice way) if we go with the first suggestion. So, then, I got my way. No chest-thumping victory. But sometimes we just have to find our way of getting things done without shouting. It's a good reminder to myself, because at home and outside the home, I do that a lot.
This morning, I raised my hand and "shouted" at the policemen at the roadblock by pressing on my car horn. They were causing congestion on the roads at 6:45 a.m. Trying to deter people from coming to work, I ask? No, to prevent subversive characters from coming into the city, before a rally this Sunday. What brilliance!
Remember, traffic congestion means time lost, gasoline and diesel being burned up for nothing. More fuel used means increased government petroleum subsidy. Now, tell me, who's forever nagging us on how Malaysia's paying a ballooning amount for fuel subsidies? Go figure.

Happy Birthday, Woan, Lyan!

Happy, happy birthday, Woan, Lyan. I'm sure that Woan is having an even more-fun celebration up in heaven! We miss you, Woan.

Yellow

If Myanmar went red,
in Malaysia we put on yellow
Not just for show
it is but one way to go
to see if they'd listen
and heed the call to reason.

Weekend Parenting

The weekend's just over. And it was another usual weekend for us. Staying at home. Doing our usual weekend shopping. Figuring what to eat for breakfast, which is relatively easy if you ask Kayrin. Roti canai, nothing more, nothing less. Nothing else.
But the weekend is also a `flamable' time. Lots of shouting, crying, temper tantrums and eventually, sulks.
Saturday mornings often start off mild enough. Just like the Saturday past. Kayrin and I sleep in a bit, till about 7:30 a.m. Having slept past her usual 6:30 a.m. wake-up time, she will miss out on her afternooon nap. And hence, when dinner time arrives, she's tired and cranky. Bath time turns into a time of bribes, threats, persuasion and raised voices. This sometimes carry on till bedtime. So that was how we ended Sunday. Yesterday, it was a cranky Kayrin not willing to fall asleep yet, a riled Shaw Feng shouting at her and an exasperated me trying to calm Kayrin down and tick Shaw Feng off.
All in, a wonderful weekend. No doubt about that. Weekend parenting is fun when we have a 4 1/2-year-old who told me that she ``and daddy have a secret'' cos they watched TV till late on Saturday night..they were bonding over sunflower seeds and some programme over the History channel, me thinks.

Michael Bublé - Everything

Josh Groban - You Raise Me Up

This is too wonderful. As good as Bette Midler's "Wind Benneath My Wings" from the 80s.

Wan Tan Mee

I've loved wan-tan-mee as far back as I could remember. I probably got hooked when I was about six, living in Baling. This was such a small town that there was no children playground or public library. It had a hospital, a cinema, 2 main streets, a post office, a police station, several schools, a Bank Rakyat branch, a wet market.
And the wan-tan-mee stall was along the lane leading to the wet market. The stall was on the right, while another stall that sells fried noodles, sar hor fun and was right across from it. We'd go to the wan-tan-mee stall for breakfast some weekends, and the sar hor fun one on evenings once in while as treats.
Wan tan mee those days in Kedah and Penang was of the tough, stringy yellow noodle-kind. So tough that I've almost choked many times when I've bitten more than I could chew. Yet I loved it. The challenge to eat the noodles gets me going. So in love was I with the noodles that I would save and save for a bowl. This was in Kuala Ketil, ah kong's place. There was a push-cart stall just across the road, in that little lane next to the dark-wood shop that sells all kinds of junk food for kids. The stall sells the perfect wan-tan mee, in the opinion of a scrawny six-year-old with limited exposure to culinary treats. So, there I was, saving every 10 sen ah kong and ah ma gave me for my own bowl of noodles. One time, after having saved 60 sen or 80 sen, I celebrated by asking Pa to order me a bowl. Pa left the money under a ceramic 'cockerel' bowl on the front table of ah kong's coffee shop. When the noodles arrived, we flipped the bowl to find the money gone. I was traumatised. That's how that memory stayed with me till now. Well, Pa forked out the money for that bowl of noodles. No longer remember how it tasted like but to me, wan tan mee from that Kuala Ketil pushcart stall will never be surpassed by any other!