Back to basics

Back to the things I know a bit of, ships and the sea. Photos taken on a rather hazy, moody afternoon which gave the rather cold bluish cast.

Flow control

Flow, everything seems to flow away, least of all money. Especially in these dire times, year end rituals and its impact on the already skinny purse. Which reminds me of a discussion I had with a dear friend who is a polar opposite to me where money is concerned.

His aim was to make millions, he enjoys looking at the many zero's in his bank statement. When I ask him why, he said that its important to have funds available for important things that might crop up. Hmmm, true, but then again how we define important things is relative. He led a frugal life, happy in his own scroogian ways. Till today, he has yet to spend his millions on "important things".

I on the other hand always seems to find "important things" to spend on. Things like this notebook that I am creating this post with. It is important for me to have things that make my life easier and more enjoyable. If its a notebook, it has to be light so its easy to carry around, fast and functional, which will obviously cost a lot more than your regular PC which could also be used to produce a post such as this.

Money, after all is meant to be used to make things easier for us. Not to be hoarded and admired. Unless of course if you can say; eat it per se. You know, some ketchup on a fifty note to add taste... No you had to use it to perhaps get a plate of mash and bangers, which can then satisfy your hunger. Certainly not merely looking at the money.

We live a short life after all. God forbid, the millions you left behind after you die became the source of contentions among those you left behind.

Then again, maybe I am just a wee bit jealous at his still many zero's....

Penang Feri

NT

MyStream 2008

The clan had a great time at Legend Water Chalet, Port Dickson. About two dozen families and their cars were involved. The organisers did a great service. From the hotel arrangement to the barbeque and best of all the entertainment. No need to spend on guest artist, resident entertainers were equally great if not better.

We had singers with golden voices and natural born comedians. Mix that with camaraderie and unpretentious kinship, it made for a blast of a time for everyone.

Thank you guys.

The Visitor

Work finished late, almost midnight. Needing respite we went for a slow drive. Enjoying the cool night breeze and beautiful moonlight in the open top car. Stopped for a drink, some chicken wings and fries at Danga Bay.


By the time we got back it was almost 2am. The gate was closed, even with the bright beam of the xenon headlights no one appears to open the gate. Damn, "makan gaji buta..." A toot of the horn brought not the guards, instead another colleague appear from the guard house. He opened the gate and we cruised in.

Get the roof up, cut the engine and walk slowly to the main door. Just as I reached for the door knob, the two guards appear. They look shaken and the Indian guy start muttering in Tamil to our Administrator. It turns out that just before we arrived, the guards saw something that looks like a lady dragging a long white cloth. They followed it right up to the door before it disappears.

This, after our colleague left his room to sleep in the guard house. Why ? He keep hearing someone or something calling out to him whenever he is in his room.

That night the three of us ended up moving beds, mattresses and pillows to spend the night like refugees in one single room. Forgoing privacy and privileges, succumbing to fear. Letting our base instinct pacify itself with the perceived security offered by the proximity of another human being. But...

As I lay myself to sleep, I can't help but wonder, is it really my two other friends that is sleeping in the room ? Is it really them or what appears to be them. I do not dare ask, nor do I sleep as I lay waiting for the morning sun to burn away the fear and uncertainty.