The Homecoming

While I may now pledge allegiance to another land, Singapore will always lay claim to a piece of me as my home country. The tantalizing sights, smells, sounds, and general feel of these familiar surroundings still take me back to more innocent and carefree times, allowing me to be refreshed and rejuvenated during each visit, so that I can return ready to face the challenges commonplace in a more grown-up and jaded reality.

I'm reveling in the simple things,... Like the castanet chirps of a transient house gecko roaming across the ceiling, its slender pale body pressed up firmly against its padded feet. The cheerful "good morning" cries of the yellow-masked myna bird and its other colorful avian brethren who call the Southeast Asian tropics home. The rustling of the heavily-laden branches as my father reaches into them with a basketed wooden pole to pick ripened fruits from the backyard chiku tree; "must pluck them before the birds do", he remarks. The steady purring of the mobile air-conditioner, working hard to keep my melting foreign companion cool. And the food...*sigh*...every single meal we've savored from the hawker stalls, which boast a fusion of the various ethnicities that comprise Singapore culture (e.g., ikan assam pedas)

I love this place.

A Touch of Class

As my inner socialist cries foul, I must acknowledge that getting upgraded to Business Class on our two-legged 20-hour journey certainly was nice. (Yeah, mileage plus points!) It's so true what they say..."once you experience the 160-degree recliner seats and elevated foot rest, it's tough to go back." (Okay, maybe no one has said it yet, so I'm claiming it.) Some of the perks we enjoyed in this more spacious setting:

• Legroom, legroom, legroom!
• Welcome pouch of goodies, including practical travel items like ear plugs, sleep mask, lotion, toothbrush and toothpaste, and a pair of bathroom slippers.
  
• Tasty menu designed by world renowned chefs like Charlie Trotter.
• Mid-flight on-demand snacks, like warm peanuts, Ghiradelli chocolates, and cup-o-noodles.
• Roaming flight attendants who kept our glasses of water bottomless.

I propose a more age-based (vs. economically-based) status-class structure. How 'bout... Everyone over the age of 35 should always be assigned a Business Class ticket; and First Class tickets should be reserved for the grey hairs (say, 60 or older), out of respect. Yup, this 36-year old would certainly vote for that.

Christmas over the Pacific

'Tho the first leg of our journey to Singapore lasted only 11 hours, our interception with the International Date Line meant that most of our Christmas eve and Christmas Day were spent crossing the Pacific Ocean. We kept ourselves and those around us festive with our Santa hats, but otherwise -- except for our United Airlines pilot who was part of the Santa hat club -- there were few signs that the date was December 25th on our flight and here at Narita Airport in Tokyo. I got lucky on Google and learned a bit about how Christmas is regarded here in Japan. Anyway, we're enjoying the smiles and pleasant wishes (accompanied by polite bows) while walking through the airport in our pommed red and white chapeaux. Merry Christmas, everyone!

"Don't Forget to Breathe"

That's her constant mantra in Pilates-Yoga class, but often the last thing that enters my mind when sustaining a challenging pose. Her misty Professor Trelawney voice floats around the room as she stealthily glides from one body to the next, shifting a tense shoulder here, adjusting a trembling foot there, ensuring that all her students have achieved the correct stance.

"Yes,...YES!" she declares gleefully in a hushed cry as she gazes proudly at the lineup of statues she has molded. She savors a deep breath and then proceeds to hypnotically guide us into another core-strengthening position.

After an hour of down-face dogs, cat stretches, saluting the sun, bridges, the 100s, and all manner of contorting drills using the Magic Circle, she releases us from her spell to return to the innocence of child's pose. That's when we can truly experience her mantra, spent but invorigated, with limp arms flopped at our sides, our damp brows resting heavily on the mat.

"Breathe..."

Playing Saws

Our clock radio drew me out of slumber with some festive but haunting tunes today. Festive 'cos, upon a close listen, they were familiar Christmas carols. Haunting 'cos they were wailing renditions of the traditional songs, created by...playing saws.

I was first introduced to this alternate use of handsaws in the early 90s French film, Delicatessen, where a pair of soulmates (of macabre persuasion) duet on a rooftop with their bows and serrated tools. I recall being unexpectedly mesmerized by the long sustaining vibrato of each deliberate note.

Learn how to play one here. Oddly fascinating stuff!

La Vida 2008

Here's my playlist of songs* that hold some special significance for me this year.

• Viva La Vida (Coldplay)
• Mercy (Duffy)
• Today is the Day (Lincoln Brewster)
• Falling Slowly (The Frames)
• Hometown Glory (Adele)
  
• I'm Yours (Jason Mraz)
• Way Down in the Hole (The Blind Boys of Alabama)
• Madly (Tristan Prettyman)
• The Way I Am (Ingrid Michaelson)
• When Your Mind's Made Up (Glen Hansard & Markéta Irglová)

A shout out to YouTube, our modern-day surrogate for the after-school bliss of non-stop music videos during the "I Want My MTV!" era of the 80s. Maybe the new MTV Music site will redeem those lost years.

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*Not necessarily released in 2008.

Breakfast at McDonald's...

...in an atmosphere that might be associated with "the other side of the tracks" but just a few blocks from trendy DuPont Circle. Happy Meals feature "My Little Pony" and "Mistika Bionacle" miniatures as gender-suggestive treasures. Promptly at 11, a young worker with muscular arms emblazened with fresh tattoos reaches up to flip the menu boards, replacing the breakfast items with lunchtime highlights. The Eagles croon overhead, hinting at the sins of Hotel California, appropriate for this audience of former Vietnam era vets in weathered trench coats and unkempt beards.

MUNI Musings

Snapshots on the outbound M-line, Jason Mraz's "I'm Yours" spinning on the iPod.

"Open up your mind and see like me"

• Elderly Asian man, rugged face sliced with creases, a plastic bag full of joss sticks bouncing against his knee with each lurch of the train.

"Listen to the music of the moment, people, dance and sing"

• Dozing student, fashionably-ripped jeans revealing a square inch of an albino white thigh. A stark contrast to dark tanned hands clasped across her lap.
  

"Scooch on over closer, dear"

• Young artist propped against the exit railing, wrist moving quickly, eyes glancing up and down as surrounding images are transferred onto his sketchpad,...including a pretty visage in peaceful slumber.
  

"So I drew a new face and I laughed"

• Slouching grey-hair in oversized khaki suit, chewing gum incessantly, twiddling thumbs over a pair of coy phoenixes on his Marriage Equality tote bag.
  

"You best believe, best believe I'm yours"