Week in review

He almost died!! (Part 2)

A couple of days ago, I blogged about a ticket agent at Southwest Airlines. Click here if you want to refresh your memory on what I wrote.

You may be interested to note that there is now an update to that article which you can read here.

When I wrote my original blog on this, I deliberately didn't comment on Southwest Airlines as a Company. There was a reason for this. I wanted to see what they would do about this situation.

You see, I don't have any problem with their general policy of requiring large people to buy an extra ticket. I think its fair game to pay extra if you take up more than your alloted airspace. The problem I have is with the ticket agent who was completely inflexible in following the rules. Although rules should generally be followed, to do so without considering any extenuating circumstances is just stupid. If you're not going to think, then I may as well replace you with a robot.

In the original article, it mentioned that Becky, a Southwest Airlines ticket agent in another location, eventually paid for the extra ticket out of her own pocket (Becky - you are a great and compassionate person!). The fact that someone else in this Company was willing to do this speaks volumes about the Company.

Now, Southwest Airlines have stated that they will issue a formal apology, refund the cost of the extra ticket and throw in four ticket vouchers. Regardless of whether Richard will ever use those ticket vouchers, I am happy that the Company made this gesture.

It indicates that they know one of their employees screwed up - and they took action to remedy the situation as best they could.

Eating habits and pyt's

I'm a pig.

I don't mean that I was born in the year of the Pig. Nor do I mean physically - otherwise I'd be a pretty smart pig; even smarter than Wilbur (from Charlotte's Web - now a major motion picture!!).

I mean I eat like a pig.

When people eat, they always have a favourite method (whether they realise it or not). Some people always take a sip of water before starting - just to wet their mouth and clear the taste buds in preparation of the upcoming feast. They would then pick up their chopsticks, spoon, fork or whatever and pick up a bite-sized piece of whatever food they are eating. The food then goes into the mouth and they chew away, all the while savouring the taste sensation, before finally swallowing.

The only commonality between those people and myself is the eating utensil. Any food placed in front of me tends to get devoured in a mad orgy of gnashing teeth and whirling chopsticks. At that point, I am become a lean, mean, eating machine. Okay, maybe not so lean - but you get the idea.

Despite this Tasmanian Devil approach to eating, I do a very good job of getting all the food into my mouth. Today was the exception.

Today, I went to a Japanese restaurant for lunch. As part of the set lunch, we also received a chawanmushi. For those unfamiliar with Japanese food, Chawanmushi is a steamed egg custard normally served in what looks like a tea cup - the texture is very smooth and it is very delicious. If you have never had it before, I definitely recommend you order one next time you are in a Japanese restaurant.

Now, as I said earlier, chawanmushi is smooth. Very smooth. So smooth in fact, that as the spoon was heading towards that gaping maw that I call my mouth, a large dollop of egg custard slipped out and landed on my trousers (in a very uncomfortable spot too!).

Being the seasoned eater that I am, I immediately sprung into action! Whipping out a handkerchief, I quickly brushed off the large dollop of egg. Unfortunately, I was too late. The egg had already left a large stain on the front of my trousers. A large white stain (I can only imagine what people were thinking when they saw that large white stain on the front of my trousers!).

This in itself isn't so bad. However, in a fit of beautiful timing, my boss decides that today is a good day to give a couple of young Uni students (one of whom is a very cute little pyt) an office tour. Being the nice person that she is, she stops at my desk to arrange an introduction.

I spent the next 10 minutes making casual conversation while trying to hide the hideous white stain on the front of my trousers! Meanwhile, my boss is trying to sell the idea of joining our company to these young hopefuls.

Somehow, I doubt we'll ever see them again.

Target audience

I got asked today why I was creating this blog. My initial response was "Didn't you read the first post?".

However, it turned out the question was more in vein of who I expected to read this blog. She was also kind enough to point out that I didn't get any visitors as no-one was commenting. grr.

Of course, I immediately got very defensive and said that based on the site meter, lots of people were reading my blog. Including someone from the UK (thx for the kind comments man!). However, it did get me thinking about who I am writing this blog for. As with any creative endeavor, it behooves (luv that word!) the author to consider the target audience.

So who am I writing this for?

Is it for my friends? As a way for us to keep in touch through my random thoughts? Or to share the latest photos of my son? Not really - if I wanted to get in touch with my friends, I would email or call them.

Is it for Joe Public then? Again, not really. I don't have any agenda I'm trying to push (check out this blog for a good example - Mahesh: Hope you get your money back!). And quite frankly, I'm too egotistical to really care what Joe Public thinks.

So, who's left. ME of course! After due deliberation, I have come to the conclusion that this blog is written by me for me. It's just a way for me to vent and rant. Plus, putting my thoughts into writing is a good way to ensure that they are well structured. If nothing else, its a good way for me to practice my writing skills and use big fancy words that I normally wouldn't get to use (can you find all the 5 syllable words in this post?).

Unfortunately, this also raises a small issue. The style of my writing is very conversational. If this blog is written for me, does this mean that I am talking to myself? Am I crazy? Have I finally gone off the deep end?

Hold that thought - I need to answer the door - there are a couple of people in white lab coats outside.

Rude Goldberg type machines

A friend sent me some links to some videos of Rude Goldberg type machines created in Japan. Check them out:

Rude Goldberg type machines

I love watching these types of videos - it just never gets old. Whats incredible is the level of physics on display - all created using normal everyday stuff (you can see lots of books, bookends, plastic spoons etc). Some of the machines are incredibly complex and sensitive.

I wonder how they build these. Do these guys use trial and error to get the timing and strength just right? Or are they really good physicists and work it all out using formulas? I suspect they aren't physicists - but if not, how long would it take to build one of these using trial and error! Or is there a secret method that I don't know about?

(btw - does anyone know what the japanese text that keeps popping up mean?)

Watching these videos always makes me wonder - if I had the skill to create one of these machines, what would I build? I probably wouldn't want to build stuff just for the purpose of entering a compo unless it was a really good prize. The kind of stuff I would do would be more practical - eg, something to auto toast bread and then "jam" it!

If you ever watched Wallace & Gromit - you will know exactly what I mean. Wallace has a machine that prepares toast - and just as its ready and pops out of the toaster, it gets hit by a dollop of flying jam! All he has to do is press a button. Now thats a useful invention!!

Of course, I don't have the skill or creativity to do this so I have to settle for the second best option. Hire a maid to do it for me! :)


Update: The original videos have been removed from You Tube (terms of use violation). As such I have replaced the links with a link to a general search on You Tube.

Driving etiquette

I really enjoy driving - for me, it can be fun and relaxing. Today, I had one of those happy moments where I am really thankful that I have my own car and get to drive.

Before I tell you what happened, let me first give you some background. The estate I live in is a little isolated as its halfway up a mountain. To get to it, you have to drive over these winding mountain roads which seem to go on forever - very idyllic. You can find an artists impression to the right (can I still call it an artists impression if I'm such a bad artist?).

When you finally get to the estate, you have to drive up another winding section of road inside the estate which goes upwards in a circular direction in order to get to the car park. It is quite tight in that section and the speed limit signs all show 8km/h (although everyone drives at around 20-30km/h - hey, its not that tight!). However, the design of the road means that it isn't possible to overtake during this portion of road. Our estate provides a shuttle bus. However, due to the narrow road, the management will stop any cars from going up or down the car park road while the shuttle bus is there.

Anyway, I was on the way home and get to the front of the estate. At this point, I get told that I have to wait as the shuttle bus is coming down. Meanwhile, another car pulls in behind me. He then beeps his horn. Thats right - he beeps his horn. Despite the fact that he should know better (I can tell he is a resident in the estate as he has a residents pass to get to the car park).

Now this kind of stuff really bugs me. In general, drivers in this city have awful driving etiquette (and many of them are poor drivers as well). Of course, being the evil and vengeful git that I am, I wasn't about to let this slide.

As soon as the shuttle bus passes, I start to drive up the road to the car park. Slowly. Very slowly (and if you have ever driven a car, you will know exactly how slow 8km/h is). All the way up to the car park, the other driver is right behind me and I can see him straining his head to see if he can find a way to overtake me. He can't. This really frustrates him and his mood isn't helped by my constant braking to ensure I don't go over the speed limit (did you know that its very hard to drive that slowly?).

The expression on his face made it all worthwhile.

As I said, I really enjoy driving.

>:)

He almost died!!

Here's a question for you - what constitutes Murder?

Before going any further - have a read of this article about Southwest Airlines.

Back? Good. So - what constitutes Murder?

First off (in case its not obvious), I am not a lawyer and have had no legal training. However, I don't know any lawyers to ask (its also unlikely a lawyer will ever comment on this blog - hence I am reduced to guesswork). So, based on some very brief research, my understanding of murder is that, as a general rule, it requires premeditation or intention to kill (hey, it was some very brief research!).

According to the article, the ticket agent had been given proof of Richard's medical condition (being the medical cert). The agent knows (he was told) that Richard was flying for the purpose of a life saving operation. It also appears that an extra seat was available and letting him on the plane wouldn't cause inconvenience to other passengers. From the available information, it looks like the ticket agent was just trying to make a quick buck (I guess they get paid on commission basis).

Suppose Richard Brown had died at the airport (and despite my dramatic headline, I have no idea how likely an eventuality that was). Would you consider the Southwest ticket agent to be a murderer?

Bear in mind, the ticket agent appears to have full knowledge of the possible consequences of his decision not to let Richard fly. Despite this, he still made the decision not to let Richard on the plane. If Richard had died, would this act (or should it be an omission to act?) be enough to constitute a murder?

I guess it probably wouldn't. Although the act is reprehensible, it seems extreme to call the ticket agent a murderer. Still, I sure as heck wouldn't want to know the guy.

Please! Take away the pain!!

I am SO tired!

My calf, thigh and forearm muscles are killing me! On a side note, can you believe that my anatomy knowledge is so bad that I had to look up those terms - disgraceful!

Some of you will be wondering why (I mean why I'm tired - not why I had to look up those terms). Others already know or can guess. To provide enlightenment to those who don't know (while giving me something to write about on this blog), here is what happened.

I played Squash (anticlimatic ain't it!).

We booked 2 squash courts for 1 hour each. Originally, we had a group of 6 people coming so it was going to be a nice relaxing game of squash. A chance to run around and let out some steam. I don't normally play squash (prefer badminton) but I was looking forward to todays game. The main reason being that in squash, you can hit the ball as hard as you like - after imagining it is the face of someone you don't like >:). You can't do that in badminton otherwise the shuttle will just get knocked out of bounds. Of course, you are free to imagine the shuttle is someone you don't like (although I wouldn't recommend this in case you hit the shuttle too hard).

Those who play squash regularly now know from the above statement that I am no good at squash! Before anyone slams me in the comments section, I do know that squash isn't just hitting the ball as hard as you can. However, as I'm crap at squash, thats basically all I can do!

Anyway, back to the story. Although we had an initial group of 6 people, for various reasons, our group of 6 got knocked down to 3. Ouch - there goes the calf muscles.

Of course, being the eager beavers that we are, we all went to the court early and in fact were ready to play 30 mins before our allocated time slot. As such, we decided to start playing early as there was an empty court. Double ouch - there goes the thigh muscles.

Due to our rotation policy (or lack thereof), I ended up playing for 1hr 30 mins. Non. Stop. Triple ouch - there goes the forearm muscles. Ding ding ding - Striiiike 3 - You're out!!!

So now I feel like I am about to collapse. Just in case my boss is reading this - now you know why I am on sick leave tomorrow!

So whats the moral of this story? After all - all good stories have to have a moral (for some reason, I can hear children singing "And the moral is" - and if you get this reference, I will buy you a brownie!). Anyway, the moral of todays story .....

..... Old men should know better than to pretend they are young!

Hello!

Huzzah!!

My first blogpost - I finally enter the 21st century. :)

I guess the first thing to talk about is why I am now creating this blog. Part of the reason is that my boss in his presentation yesterday was talking about the professional of the future. One of the points he mentioned was that people born after 1982 were "natives" to technology while those born before were "immigrants" to technology.

In case there is any doubt, I am an immigrant to technology.

But here is the problem - I want to be a native.

I have always considered myself to be "hip" and "trendy" despite the fact that I am no longer a spring chicken (In fact, I am probably closer to getting my mid-life crisis!). I try very hard to be open to new ideas etc. And in many ways, I guess I do a good job at this. At least I am not afraid of technology anyway (I say that like its an achievement!).

But after listening to my boss talk about the 1982 cut-off and his example of his daughter having 5 email accounts, I realised that maybe I'm not as trendy as I thought.

So here I am - writing my first blog post (and becoming the Time person of the Year!!).

I hope you enjoy this blog (and brief insight into my psyche).