"Wider, please."

The human mind is capable of great things. Love. Friendship. Loyalty. Compassion.

Then there's dentists.

We've all had our share of misguided childhood ambitions -

--
Kindergarten teacher: "So Tommy, what do you want to be when you grow up?"

Tommy: "A Fireman so I can help save people and put out fires!"

Kindergarten teacher: "Very good. Jane?"

Jane: "A policewoman so I can catch the bad guys and lock them up forever!"

Kindergarten teacher: "Doesn'treallyworklikethatiftheyhaveagoodlawyerbut Very good! Tessa?"

Tessa: "A reporter so I can talk to people and write their stories!"

Kindergarten teacher: "Wow, that's nice! And you, Mark?"

Mark: "I wanna be a dentist so I can earn lots of money by causing people immense pain and trauma hyukhyuksnort!"

Kindergarten teacher: "...wtf."
--

It's not like, say, photographers. With photography you can discover you have an eye for taking nice pictures, work at getting better and go professional. Dentistry is something you decide on right off the bat. Well I suppose you can discover you have a good talent for causing people pain and enjoying it. That, or discover you really, really like teeth. Not a very healthy thing, either way.

And they lie. They do. It's a bit sweeping to say they all do, but in my experience, yes. The words constantly on the tip of their tongue are "root canal". Because it's one of the more expensive and painful options.

--
Patient: "I've got this..."

Dentist: "Root canal."

Patient: "...bit of a gum bleed. Are you sure that's necessary?"

Dentist: "Oh, yes. Never know what's causing those things. Could be very serious, yes. Better have a root canal just to be safe."

Patient: "Well, I suppose you know better. Alright, then. I've also got..."

Dentist: "Sounds like another root canal, that is."

Patient: "...slight runny nose do you think it will affect the dril..what?"

Dentist: "Oh, nothing. I was clearing my throat."
--

Follow one around long enough and you'll see him at McDonald's ordering, "A Big Mac with extra root ca...uh, lettuce, I mean."

Having a spot of trouble with my wisdom tooth growing out, I went to the dentist about a year ago. It was growing at a very bad angle, she said. What was absolutely necessary was to have an operation where they would cut my gum to pieces, smash up that tooth and extract it. And because I had this weird tooth structure in general, they would need to...

I forget the details. She was very persuasive though, and I figured saving up that close to two thousand dollars for the operation was imperative. It was a very fortunate thing that Miss Procrastination and I have a dirty little affair going on. The damned tooth grew out fine.

Of course, she quite probably was a kind, benevolent dentist who saw a problem that has even now yet to happen, and was acting in my best interests. Five years down the road, that impudent tooth may have me drinking my meals in immense pain.

"Medium-rare steak. I know it's an unusual request, but once you're done cooking it, could you be so kind as to toss the lot in the blender on 'Liquify' for three minutes before serving? Thank you very much."

But just imagine the things she wanted to do to my mouth! With me looking right up at her, adding my nail marks to the twenty thousand others by the side of the chair. And I just know she'll keep giving me that disapproving look and say,

"Wider, please."

The Day's Takings - Finale.

So you see, the secret to happiness is really very simple: set yourself targets that are quite easy to reach, or so metaphysical no one can tell.

I've got the last batch of pictures up, and it's nowhere near the end of the month. Eh?

My next goal is to be born rich and achingly good looking.

But, yes, on with the show. The previous entry ended at about the early evening. The day's fringe activities were over and the performers had packed it up and gone. It was a little weird to see Butterfly Man without his wings. He was fantastic as Butterfly Man...so much that he even looked a bit bug-ish to me without the costume. Zero offence, merely observation. And hey, looking like a bug isn't at all a bad thing. I think.

And so, the beginning of the end -

5.30 pm: Main stage show.

This is where, through the video link on the huge array of screens I was telling you about, we had the Parade and performances at the Padang telecast LIVE OMG. The phrase "MAKE SOME NOISE" started on its arduous journey of abuse here. By the end of the night, it was in a shivering heap, muttering incoherently to itself.

So they switch from area to area - Padang, Marina, Tampines, Jurong and us. At each point, the MCs of the place would get everyone to MAKE SOME NOISE. The people of each venue also had to do that Singapore Workout-ish dance. The people of Yishun were quite good sports. Most gave it a shot.

The Ministers of Parliament for the divisions that were zoned for this celebration then arrived. On trishaws, no less. They were welcomed by many cute children waving flags.

Yes, the children were actually pretty cute. Specially selected for cuteness, you see.

We watched the President arrive at the Padang, and as is customary, all sang the National Anthem. It has been an observation of mine that, besides the schooling kids who have to sing it every morning, no one else seems to know it. Or willing to actually sing it, anyway.

This was followed by the usual slew of performances and song-singing. And then OMG TEH AIR DISPLAY. The MCs announcing it sounded very excited, you see. I am earnestly trying to get that across. What the air display was, though:


It was over in about three seconds. But it was a very exciting three seconds, mind.


7.15 pm: Ha. Ha.

The Mobile Column, that assortment of huge Army and Civil-Dee vehicles, starts driving past the Padang. We get to watch a little, but they're driving on to where we are anyway. So we watch a short video about the founding of Singapore, which is about the same material as what I covered in the Singapore entry but very much more proper. They had a cartoon of Sang Nila Utama sailing and seeing the shadow of a lion and everything.

Then we had...Laughter Therapy. This is where things got a bit weird. They invite some sort of qualified professional up on the stage, and she tries to lead the huge crowd there at Yishun through the various different types of laughter. There must have been about six or seven, but damned if I can remember any one. Her laughter was a bit forced, I felt. Sort of how it would be if someone told you to make laughing noises when your dog has just died.

But yes, the crowd was a sport. They...tried. I just retreated to my happy place when they were doing it.

You'll notice I haven't got many pictures up to this point. The crowd seated in front of the stage was about the size of a football field and a half you see. I'd been out at the perimetres all this time. Frustrated with the lack of opportunities to...shoot things, I hit upon the bright idea of going around looking for happy family/cute kid pictures. Those are always useful. Got space to fill? Put in a cute kid!

Not too many photogenic kids around there though. It could be my lack of skill but hey, what are the odds of that? I didn't get too many usable ones for publication I'm afraid. Some nice ones for my own collection, though...


I thought this was an awesome shot of a happy family. Notice, however, that the young boy is surreptitiously giving me the finger with his left hand. Must...resist...Photoshop...


And this gem. I just find this one unbearably adorable for some reason.

I found out one can get away with quite a lot if he walks around dressed all spiffy and has a camera on a string around his neck, with an official-type bag. Some sort of primal code in the DNA makes people automatically pose happily when confronted with the above conditions. The problem lies in the ones that aren't yet old enough for that to kick in. Quite depressing when a kid runs away from you screaming for his mommy.


Adults, though. No problem. I felt this was real sweet. They were just seated by themselves on a mat, quite content to let the young people do the screaming and shouting while they enjoyed each other's company.


I thought this made a meaningful picture, too. Little girl holding the book like that, with "The Future is Ours to Make". Very nice. As opposed to a picture of, say, some golden-haired ah beng holding it. Then it would be depressing. True, but depressing. Please to ignore the...simian-looking little boy.


It was a film camera, you see. And Mr Ancob had said earlier on I shouldn't need to worry about running out of film. We settled upon contacting each other via our mobile phones should we need anything, like updates, film and sanity.

Ah, so many things seem like such good ideas at the time.

Because at this point I'd run out of film going balistic on happy families, you see. And if you live in Singapore, you'll know how mobile networks tend to jam up on major occasions like Christmas and New Year's Eve, because everyone needs to tell everyone else to have a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. It's like they'll forget to be Merry or Happy without being told to.

I wouldn't have imagined it. But apparently we also tell each other to have a Happy National Day, lah.

So the networks were jammed. Twenty thousand redials and all I get is a NETWORK BUSY KTHX signal each time. I was...stuck. I couldn't even go talk to people about the show, because I'd need pictures of them to use so you'll know they aren't figments of my imagination. I wandered around a bit trying to find the pink polo-tee and safari hat. No luck. I was just going to have to sit back and...absorb the atmosphere. Most of the subsequent pictures are Mr Ancob's.

A bit more of my sanity was ground away as they played "Reach out for the skies" again. Then, fireworks. Whee, fireworks. We've all seen them but we just can't get enough of the pretty pretty lights, can we?

This one was different, too. Because the firework cannons were in a cordoned area barely a hundred metres away from the crowd. You could see it shooting up from the ground, into the sky. The organizers were right bastards, too. No warning. And firework detonations, as I learned that night, are loud.


See, see. So close. When it started, the more skitterish kids also started crying. And you saw this wave of people scooting backwards. It really was quite loud. And at that distance, you also find out what goes up must come down. Wot, you thought the fireworks just disappeared nicely into the air? The spent magnesium fluttered down gently as grey, burnt-out flakes.

I actually watched with much amusement as a not burnt-out flake fluttered down onto somebody's back. Some furious swatting by her husband ensued.


They also produce a lot of smoke. Many a handkerchief was whipped out and fastened over nose, there.


Taking pictures of them is very tricky, Mr Ancob told me. You have to use a long shutter to get a nice effect instead of a blob of light. But then you'll also run the risk of getting these. Little fire-worm things which don't look very nice, do they?


A better example of the fireworks, which were really quite nice.


But of course, Mr Ancob, with 44 years experience in the industry, shines through. Those are just spectacular pictures. Front cover material.

AND I WAS OUT OF FILM.

But, yes. The fireworks were the end of the official concert. This was about 8.30 pm. They sang a few more songs, and the MCs closed the video link with the Padang. People started leaving, despite being told the concert wasn't over yet. There was still a sort of post-parade concert lined up, with fabulous artistes from all over, and the Mobile Column was on its way there.

They were still leaving, though.

A good many came back, however, once the post-parade concert started. Once again, NO FILM OMG. Let me try to do it justice.

"Yishun, do you want MOOOOORE?!", said the MCs. Very irritating. The crowd responded, but not all that enthusiastically, and heck, it wasn't like they were going to say, "Oh. You don't. Well we'll just call the whole thing off, then. Good night." .

Performer 1: Reshmonu
I gathered he's a huge thing in Malaysia. His segment was titled "Yishun Explosion" on the programme sheet. As cheesy as it sounds, it was quite explosive. He was this Indian chap with long dreadlocks and he rapped the crowd to rousing rhapsody. Very energetic, he was, and it rubbed off onto the crowd. He overdid the "tell the crowd they are wonderful people no matter what" bit a little, but he was one of the better ones. Everyone MADE SOME NOISE when he asked them to. They drew the line at PUT CHOOR HANDS UP IN DEE AIR, though.

Yes yes, we DO WANT MORE already. The MCs came out and asked again you see. Just to be sure. To verify that we did indeed want more, they actually went and divided the crowd into three sections, and got each one to MAKE SOME NOISE. Quite pleased with themselves, they then brought out the next performers.


Performer 2: Twins
The famous HongKong singers, yes. I thought they were quite horrible, but that's just me. Their selling point was sort of "hey, if one sweet-faced, young nubile girl singing bubblegum-pop can sell records, you can't go wrong with TWO". Maybe I'm just prejudiced, because I don't like that sort of music.

But they have no excuse for saying "Hello" about 17 times through their performance.

When they first came out onto the stage they said hello to the crowd you see. Screamscream, shoutshout. Said it about five times. Each. Then they start singing, and you know how there are little lapses in songs where it's just music and no singing? Some singers will takes the chance to smile and say a quick Thank You. Reshmonu had all kinds of things going on there. Well, damned if the Twins didn't fill each pause for breath with a Hello.

It was said very sweetly, of course. Wasn't sweet enough to take that stamp off their foreheads for me, though. Rhymes with "akimbo".

I'm not sure if it was me, the sound system, or the short Singaporean tongue which I am also occasionally guilty of. But I am prepared to swear that the female MC came out, effusively thanked them for their crap performance, and then declared that the Tits had a present for Singapore - a birthday song! Please, a round of applause for a birthday song from the Tits.

She'd meant Twins, of course. It was probably me. Not that it wouldn't have been just as appropriate, considering there were...

Ok, never mind.


Interlude: Mobile Column.
Remember that Mobile Column that was making its way down to the various Heartland venues from the Padang? Well, they were here! The on-screen camera panned to a view of the first vehicle, a jeep, pulling into the street with its hazard lights on.

...and stayed that way for about a half hour.

No kidding. This was one of the bigger screw-ups of the event. The huge column of Army and Civil-Dee vehicles stretching a few streets pulled up...and waited for about a half hour. The people got fidgety. Then they started leaving. And like the cliched domino effect, just about all of them started leaving. The traffic light junction to cross the street to get out was sardines-in-a-can packed. Traffic itself was backed up for two streets and counting. And this was all because?

Why, because the column had gotten there too early, of course. And we all know utter chaos might ensue from not following the time-table, so there really is not other choice than to sit and wait. With "Reach out for the skies" slowly grinding...

I think the song was the real reason for the mass exodus. Ugh.

To be fair, it was the only major hiccup that day. And as an unintended side effect, it showed the real National Day spirit, at least to me. Because in that ghastly, half-hour pile up of people and traffic, not a single car horn sounded. We're talking about Singaporean drivers who will flip you off for cutting into their lane, sometimes. I thought the lack of even one horn was quite amazing.

It was entirely possible that they simply weren't quite sure about horning a tank, or a five-ton truck full of soldier with guns. But let's be positive, here.

Finally, the time-slot was up, and they started moving. Good stuff, really.


You car. Me tank. You horn, me make small error in driving and crush you like insect. Questions?


The Army's Dial-A-Missile delivery service.


The Army's very advanced remote detonation machine. They placed a mine, then got the machine out to go detonate it you see. The MC warned the people to cover their ears, because there would be a very loud explosion.

What actually happened sort of went like this:

Machine comes out. Trundles to the mine. Carefully, they get it into position. zrrrnk zrrrnk.
Then it is time for it to detonate the mine omg. zrrnk zrrrrrrrrnk. poke.

Nothing.

zrrrnk zrrrrrrrrnk. poke.

Nothing.

zrrrrrrrrrrrrnk zrrrrrrrrrrrrrnk. POKE.

Awkward pause. And then the man in the bomb suit comes out and collects both the machine and the mine and they speed off. I leave you to draw your own conclusions.

The Civil Defence team was not to be outdone! They actually put up a mock building and set the thing on fire.


Using advanced fire-fighting technology, the MC tells us, they will rush in, rescue hostages, and then put out the fire!

What actually happened:

Fwoom. Fire.

Bee borr bee borr bee borr evacuate poor hapless sod very good now put out the fire.

Pssssssssst. Burnburn. Psssssst. Burn. Pssssssssst Burnburnburn.

...burnburnburn.

They never actually put the thing out. The MC happily announced that they'd rescued two hostages and put out the fire as the Civil-Dee team sped off on their scooters, leaving the construct to burn itself out.


Performer 3: Tanya Chua
She's a bit of a local celebrity. In fact, the only local celebrity that was in the post-parade concert. For National Day. A bit of an irony, I felt. Not many people were left by the time she came on. They'd all buggered off during that half-hour holdup, you see. But she bravely went on and sang some lovely songs, followed by a short dialogue session with the MCs.

This second bit reaffirms my belief that something was wrong with the sound system. Once again, I am prepared to swear this is what I heard.

MC: "So Tanya, we hear you're picking up a new instrument. What is it?"

Tanya: "Drugs."

MC: "Ah! That's very exciting! So you'll be doing it for your future recordings?"

Tanya: "Yes, I'll be playing the drugs. It's very new to me."

She meant drums, but it took a bit of figuring out for me. Perhaps I need an ear exam.


Performer 3: Nicholas Tse
For those not in the know, Nicholas is a pretty major-league HongKong celebrity. My theory is he's immensely popular because he has a kick-ass Chinese name. Xie Ting Feng. It just radiates cool, if you speak the language.

Doesn't hurt that he's achingly cute, too.

But he was wonderful. The organizers, the canny bastards, kept him for last so they'd be guranteed at least a crowd of fanboys. Or girls, as the case might be. I don't normally hold with mainstream popularity, as in the case of the Ti...I mean, Twins. But I could see why he's so well received. He was gracious, spoke English and Chinese equally well, and knew how to please the crowd. Many a shed item of undergarment was flung that night. And not all of them female ones.

One bit was quite well done. Obviously scripted, but quite well done.

MC: "So Nicholas, since it's your first time in Singapore in quite a number of years, we want to quiz you on something."

Nicholas: "Aiyayai. Well sure, but don't make it too difficult!"

MC: "Oh, we're sure you won't know this one. It's very difficult. Now, what we want to ask you is, what area of Singapore are you performing in right now?"

NIcholas: "Oh, come on. You must be kidding. How could I not know THE PEOPLE OF YISHUN?!"

It's a little hard to bring across in text, but he started off his answer soft and nonchalant, then turned it into a nice roar towards the end. It got a great response, of course. His voice was the sort that could carry it off. If I'd tried that, there would have been a squeak somewhere in the roaring bit. Zao siah, as we call it. And everyone would look at me stupidly instead of swooning like they did for Nicholas.


So that's the end of my series of little unofficial reports. Each one took me a little short of three hours including sorting, re-sizing and uploading. It was a fun and well-done, if tiring day for me, and I hope I've managed to convey some of that to you.

Plus, I have to write several reports about it soon, so I have to keep it fresh in my mind.

Wot, you thought this was all about you?

The Day's Takings, Part 2.

Feeling a fair bit better. You'll be forgiven if you thought that was all I had to say about that affair at Yishun on National Day. Selecting/Resizing and then hosting was about three times the time I thought it would take. Meh.

We resume the recount of events two bloody weeks ago with a badly done Photoshop by yours truly.



Told you he was giving me the finger. Do me a favour and don't look too closely.

Some of the stuff made me wish I had this kind of thing around as a kid. Not that I would have gotten to go, really. But the not-being-able-to-go would build up healthy kid-angst. Which as we all know is essential to growing up a wholesome person.

However wholesome a person I am aside, the kids at the celebrations had it gooood. Look!

-> ->

This little girl got to dress up in a chemical defense suit and get smacked with twenty thousand litres of water. Which is...fun, I suppose.



And these little girls got to play soldier! Aren't they seriously adorable in a non-sarcastic way? ...It's sad when you have to clarify yourself when you say things like that.

Of course, if you're male it's all quite different. You'll think it's all very exciting, then hit 18, get conscripted, and wonder just what the hell you were thinking when you were 8.

You also had the option of taking a ride in either the spiffy new Civil-Dee vehicle which really is quite nice, or an Armoured Personnel Carrier from the Army. Refer short paragraph above for comment on the latter. The queue for both was quite insane - you had to wait in line for upwards of 45 minutes to take a spin around the field.



Would have been worth it, I suppose, if only to watch the expressions of OMGWTF on the faces of drivers around you.

Performances aplenty as well, that day. It was about mid afternoon by the time they came out properly - Costumers, fire-breathers and the Singapore Management University Samba Masala Club. It means "Brazilian Drums", if I recall. The way it translates in Singapore would be funny. "Dance Curry". Hee hee. I kill me.



The Samba Masala Club. They were fantastic. I've always liked a good lively beat, and they had TehGroovitude. I shyly approached one of the guys with the fuck-off huge drums for a comment on how they felt about performing there. One. Bloody. Comment.

Of course he has to call the whole team back. Surrounded by pretty women wielding instruments that suddenly looked very ominous, and golden-haired men with large pointy sticks, I suddenly felt very alone.

It went decently, though. I carried myself with aplomb, and found out a fair bit. Then I made a mad dash for it once someone called for them.



These are some of the better costumes. The first pair was a little whacked. My first thought was, "Have I been smoking that shit?" , followed by "Oh wait. I can't get that shit here. So this must be real. Whoa." . The second was nicely surreal, I felt.

Mr Butterfly in the last picture was a huge hit with the crowd for pictures. Can't blame them, really. I mean it's a five-metre long butterfly. Pretty good looking for a butterfly, too. There was almost a queue forming in that open space, with the number of people who wanted a piece of him.



...as opposed to this dude. You're looking at a costume, the top of which was about three metres high. I felt bad for this guy, because

1. His head, for the entire duration of the thing, was smack in the lion's crotch. It was a sort of very long lion-stickman costume, you see. The arms were movable by means of the sticks attached to its arms, and what I didn't get a picture of was the lower half, which had long legs sort of bent over in a squatting position. Right on top of the poor dude.

2. No one wanted to take pictures with him lah. It was a flamboyant costume, but didn't go very well appeal-wise. All you could get if you took the picture was of the legs, anyway. I peeked underneath the lion's buttox and asked him if he was lonely. A little startled at first, he resignedly replied that it was all about the costume. Kept saying it like some kind of mantra, he did. Remarkably, a woman with a kid came over to take a picture right after. One.



Even Peacock-man got more pictures taken than LonelyLion. Peacock man! With the super-power of...making things look very colourful!

...look, it beats the super-power of having it the size of a pea, alright?



These guys were awesome. They were the Fat Brothers from Australia, and you just got to give credit to people who can come up with an idea like that. Got to have a flair for being comic too, and they had it.

I saw them later that night, carrying their packed-up costumes off. I just had to chuckle. The man who invents a weight-loss system that works that well will have it made.



And of course, the pretty women. These were the Mardi Gras dancers on the programme sheet, I think. I actually knew the one in red on the right, in the first picture.
I thought she looked a bit familiar, so I was looking at her intently trying to figure it out. Yes, at her face, way up there. And then she looks over. "Oh, you're from CJ right? I forgot your name!". Bright, chirpy girl. Very cute, too. But do any of them ever remember my name?

They got together, all the costumers, the girls and the Samba Masala Club. The...SM Club played some fantastic music while the rest of them danced. Well ok, the Mardi Gras girls danced. The rest just sort of bobbed happily up and down in time to the music. Hey, you try dancing with a two-metre-wide buttock, or a five metre wingspan.

I had pictures, but they were just too messy. Most turned out a jumble of shapes and colour, due to their odd sizes. Only way to get a good shot was by helicopter, I think.



So I present to you instead, Fabian the Fantastic Flame Fandango!

No, I just made that up. Would have been a good name, though. If he ever sneezes, you run. Fast and far. No, do not ask questions. Just run.



Also featuring, Feena of the Fabulous Fire Finesse!

Well, not really. Made that one up too.

I have this one chance to say it while being entirely descriptive and not at all lewd. This one chance, possibly in my life. And I will say it.

She swallows.

That about concludes it for the afternoon show. Much of my time was spent walking around looking for good pictures to take, and talking to people a little about the whole affair. And running to and from the dollar-per-can drink stall. It was fuck-off hot that day.

I have a bit more to put up from here till the end of the thing at ten in the night. Humongous affair, wasn't it? I've eased off my standards of credibility now. Instead of aiming to put it up in the few days after, or even the week after National Day, I will now be happy if I can get them up within the National Day month.

I'm only half kidding, too.

I leave you now, with a picture that for some reason just brought to mind Harry Potter. Very strange, considering I've never touched any of the books. Ah, the tragedy of pop culture.



Notice the grace and fluidity, of his balls in the air.

Look, we all have to indulge that juvenile humour sometimes, alright? Yeesh.

A four-line break.

Sniffle, sniffle, sneeze a lot
I've got the influenza
A little virus called his friends
Over for beer and pizza

The Day's Takings, Part 1.

WE WANT MOOOOORE!

...your silence tells me.


As far as I know, Singapore's previous 39 National Day celebrations were all held at the National Stadium or Padang. You could queue for your free tickets at your local Community Centre, but be prepared to queue. With each ticket entitling the holder not only to entry but 01 x Decent Goodie Bag, the Singapore Spirit had the things snapped up within two hours of the doors opening every year. So if you lucked out, it was just you and your telly.

Hey, at least you could join the celebrations in your red/white underwear, I suppose. Anything beyond that, I don't want to know. Babies born on 9th May each year must have exceptionally patriotic parents.

This year was different. Other than the Stadium, celebrations were held at four other places: Marina, Yishun, Tampines and Jurong. The actual event would be linked over the airwaves via live broadcasts, with the classic, "HELLO OTHER PLACE. WE'RE HAVING FUN OVER AT THIS PLACE WHAT ABOUT YOU??!" kind of thing done over fuck-off huge monitor assemblies. Which really is quite good. Most people I spoke to felt the travel time to the Stadium of previous years was a bit much.

As with all things done the first time, there were little bumps. Then again, perhaps it's just the way things normally are done around here. One glaring bit, to me, was their idea of good zoning. If you stayed in the West - Commonwealth, for example, your designated place to travel to for "your" celebrations was Yishun. An hour away by anything short of helicopter. Makes sense to them, I suppose.

Organizations the world over seem to have fallen in love with the "@" symbol and of course we're no exception. What this led to were the Celebrations@Yishun, Celebrations@Jurong and Celebrations@Tampines, collectively referred to as the Celebrations@Heartlands. Then there was the Carnival@Marina and Parade@Padang. I swear I'm not making this up. Actual text on the brochures, that is.

And if you don't already know, the symbol is called a snail. So you could be saying to your friends, "Wasn't that ParadeSnailPadang just the greatest thing ever?".


My insignificant opinions aside, it was a day of good fun. The Celebrations@Yishun were held at the open field beside the Golden Village building in Yishun, about ten minutes from the MRT on foot. I got there at about eleven thirty, to an eclectic mix of techno music pumping from one side of the side of the field and warbles of olden-golden Chinese sentimentals from the other. Early look-see-ers were already wandering about, and I study the panoramic view of the field over coffee and cigarettes, waiting for Mr Ancob.

Soon after that chemical kick-start, he calls. I make my way to where he'd said he was over the phone, and there he was looking quite adorable in a pink polo-tee and safari hat! He hands me the camera and sends me packing with instructions to go talk to people.

And here is as much of the day as I can recall. Click on pictures to see it in full size, if you're not familiar with how these things work. I only know Imageshack, so loading may be a little slow. They were taken by Mr Ancob and myself, and I can only appeal to your inherent sense of all that's cute and furry, not to use them without informing me.


Very fitting banner, I thought. The day was as hot as Britanny Murphy - I actually got a tan from the wandering about. This was the rock-climbing section, and quite popular. Some of the kids who gave it a shot proved quite dextrous. I waited quite a bit there, but finally moved on, having decided disappointedly that no one was actually going to go splat.


Army and Civil Defence exhibitions are almost obligatory on National Day. I got quite jealous of the Civil-Dee people walking around nicely watered down. The guns in the first picture shoot a strong, fine mist of water with hardly any recoil.

The contraption that looks like what they used in Ghostbusters was quite impressive. I watched with amusement as an Indian man underwent a rather long instructional brief before being allowed to fire the thing. I found out why. The thing shoots something like...a ball of wet air. Very fast. No, really very fast. Standing next to the dude grinning stupidly to myself, I was decidedly unamused as he aimed the thing at the ground and gouged out a good-sized chunk of already-wet soil. Guess where the mud went.



Mr Civil-Dee with the burny-stick I would dearly love to wield was in charge of relighting the fire...hehe. RELIGHT MAHHH FIREEEE! Sorry. But yes, he was. They had a line of little metal woks on stands you see, which they set on fire. Excited civilians would then queue to use an actual fire extinguisher to put the fire out. Got a little repetitive pretty fast.

Psssssssst. FWOOM. Pssssst. FWOOOM.

They had fresh extinguishers at first, which made that nice noise along with the white mist you see in movies. Then they ran out, and a trip around the back of the Civil-Dee tent uncovered a group of the Civil-Dee men surreptitiously filling the empty ones up with water. They then became very sad squirt-guns, because all they had as propellant was compressed air which they pumped into the extinguishers after filling them up.

I felt bad for the little kid who must have been wondering why his extinguisher seemed to be urinating on the fire instead of doing that cool mist-gush like the bloke next to him.


I'll make this the end of the first bit. Gosh, and we're not even done with half the day yet.

I leave you with obligatory pictures of Cute Kid and Pretty Girl.


Singapore never looked this good.


A rather cute kid I found.

...Say what you will. I still think he's trying to give me the finger, in the second picture.