...Comes Around

Am plugging this blogpost by Sabrina J. cause I like it very much for its sincerity and basically it's all true that karma goes around, comes around -- and still never bothers to ask for directions.

Booby Rants - What Goes Around...

Bleep

I... have been trying to upload some songs onto here but Lifelogger seems to have been a has-been...?

Anyone with suggestions for audio-hosting sites?

Rollo, the Red-nosed Reindeer

Early names in consideration for the red-nosed reindeer included Rollo (rejected for sounding too cheerful) and Reginald, which happens to be Sir Elton's real name, dismissed for sounding too British. (source)

It's Christmas time again, for those of you who do celebrate. For people like me who are thankful for the ho-ho-holiday, the Rudolph song featuring the voices of Malaysian Bloggers (from last year, but these things never get old) will no doubt get you into the heat of the action. Listen to it here or download the mp3 from Lin Peh's site.

Have a jamming Christmas, everyone!

Say Hi to Liz!

Everyone here please join me in welcoming back Lizzie to the blogosphere.

After celebrating an 'anniversary' (or more accurately, 365 days, since her blog is Days of My Life) of not updating her blog, the writer in her has finally decided to burst and set free again.

So please hop over and give her some push to keep her writing. (How you want to push her is up to you.)

My Father Never Drove a Car (Michael Gartner)

This article is sent in by kopi.

My Father Never Drove a Car
by Michael Gartner

My father never drove a car. Well, that's not quite right. I should say I never saw him drive a car. He quit driving in 1927, when he was 25 years old, and the last car he drove was a 1926 Whippet. "In those days," he told me when he was in his 90s, "to drive a car you had to do things with your hands, and do things with your feet, and look every which way, and I decided you could walk through life and enjoy it or drive through life and miss it."

At which point my mother, a sometimes salty Irishwoman, chimed in: "Oh, bull!" she said. "He hit a horse." "Well," my father said, "there was that, too." So my brother and I grew up in a household without a car. The neighbors all had cars the Kollingses next door had a green 1941 Dodge, the VanLaninghams across the street a gray 1936 Plymouth, the Hopsons two doors down a black 1941 Ford but we had none.

My father, a newspaperman in Des Moines, would take the streetcar to work and, often as not, walk the 3 miles home. If he took the streetcar home, my mother and brother and I would walk the three blocks to the streetcar stop, meet him and walk home together.

My brother, David, was born in 1935, and I was born in 1938, and sometimes, at dinner, we'd ask how come all the neighbors had cars but we had none. "No one in the family drives," my mother would explain, and that was that. But, sometimes, my father would say, "But as soon as one of you boys turns 16, we'll get one." It was as if he wasn't sure which one of us would turn 16 first.

But, sure enough, my brother turned 16 before I did, so in 1951 my parents bought a used 1950 Chevrolet from a friend who ran the parts department at a Chevy dealership downtown. It was a four-door, white model, stick shift, fender skirts, loaded with everything, and, since my parents didn't drive, it more or less became my brother's car.

Having a car but not being able to drive didn't bother my father, but it didn't make sense to my mother. So in 1952, when she was 43 years old, she asked a friend to teach her to drive. She learned in a nearby cemetery, the place where I learned to drive the following year and where, a generation later, I took my two sons to practice driving. The cemetery probably was my father's idea. "Who can your mother hurt in the cemetery?" I remember him saying once. For the next 45 years or so, until she was 90, my mother was the driver in the family. Neither she nor my father had any sense of direction, but he loaded up on maps though they seldom left the city limits and appointed himself navigator. It seemed to work.

Still, they both continued to walk a lot. My mother was a devout Catholic, and my father an equally devout agnostic, an arrangement that didn't seem to bother either of them through their 75 years of marriage.(Yes, 75 years, and they were deeply in love the entire time.) He retired when he was 70, and nearly every morning for the next 20 years or so, he would walk with her the mile to St. Augustin's Church. She would walk down and sit in the front pew, and he would wait in the back until he saw which of the parish's two priests was on duty that morning. If it was the pastor, my father then would go out and take a 2-mile walk, meeting my mother at the end of the service and walking her home. If it was the assistant pastor, he'd take just a 1-mile walk and then head back to the church He called the priests "Father Fast" and "Father Slow."

After he retired, my father almost always accompanied my mother whenever she drove anywhere, even if he had no reason to go along..If she were going to the beauty parlor, he'd sit in the car and read, or go take a stroll or, if it was summer, have her keep the engine running so he could listen to the Cubs game on the radio.

(In the evening, then, when I'd stop by, he'd explain: "The Cubs lost again. The millionaire on second base made a bad throw to the millionaire on first base, so the multimillionaire on third base scored."). If she were going to the grocery store, he would go along to carry the bags out and to make sure she loaded up on ice cream.

As I said, he was always the navigator, and once, when he was 95 and she was 88 and still driving, he said to me, "Do you want to know the secret of a long life?" "I guess so," I said, knowing it probably would be something bizarre. "No left turns," he said. "What?" I asked. "No left turns," he repeated. "Several years ago, your mother and I read an article that said most accidents that old people are in happen when they turn left in front of oncoming traffic. As you get older, your eyesight worsens, and you can lose
your depth perception, it said. So your mother and I decided never again to make a left turn."

"What?" I said again "No left turns," he said. "Think about it. Three rights are the same as a left, and that's a lot safer. So we always make three rights." "You're kidding!" I said, and I turned to my mother for support. "No," she said, "your father is right. We make three rights. It works." But then she added: "Except when your father loses count." I was driving at the time, and I almost drove off the road as I started laughing. "Loses count?" I asked. "Yes," my father admitted, "that sometimes happens. But it's not a problem. You just make seven rights, and you're okay again." I couldn't resist. "Do you ever go for 11?" I asked. "No,"he said. "If we miss it at seven, we just come home and call it a bad day. Besides, nothing in life is so important it can't be put off another day or another week."

My mother was never in an accident, but one evening she handed me her car keys and said she had decided to quit driving. That was in 1999, when she was 90. She lived four more years, until 2003. My father died the next year, at 102. They both died in the bungalow they had moved into in 1937 and bought a few years later for $3,000..(Sixty years later, my brother and I paid $8,000 to have a shower put in the tiny bathroom the house had never had one. .My father would have died then and there if he knew the shower cost nearly three times what he paid for the house.) He continued to walk daily. He had me get him a treadmill when he was 101 because he was afraid he'd fall on the icy sidewalks but wanted to kee exercising and he was of sound mind and sound body until the moment he died.

A happy life. One September afternoon in 2004, he and my son went with me when I had to give a talk in a neighboring town, and it was clear to all three of us that he was wearing out, though we had the usual wide-ranging conversation about politics and newspapers and things in the news.

A few weeks earlier, he had told my son, "You know, Mike, the first hundred years are a lot easier than the second hundred." At one point in our drive that Saturday, he said, "You know, I'm probably not going to live much longer." "You're probably right," I said.

"Why would you say that?" he countered, somewhat irritated. "Because you're 102 years old," I said. "Yes," he said, "you're right." He stayed in bed all the next day. That night, I suggested to my son and daughter that we sit up with him through the night. He appreciated it, he said, though at one point, apparently seeing us look gloomy, he said: "I would like to make an announcement. No one in this room is dead yet." An hour or so later, he spoke his last words: "I want you to know," he said, clearly and lucidly, "that I am in no pain. I am very comfortable. And I have had as happy a life as anyone on this earth could ever have."

A short time later, he died. I miss him a lot, and I think about him a lot. I've wondered now and then how it was that my family and I were so lucky that he lived so long.I can't figure out if it was because he walked through life. Or because he quit taking left turns.

----
Michael Gartner has been editor of newspapers large and small and president of NBC News. In 1997, he won the Pulitzer Prize for editorial writing.

Is your co-worker a Geminian?

Gemini Employee Profile (May 21 - June 21)

Gemini employees can have difficulty concentrating on one thing for long periods of time.

They have quick-moving minds and love to talk and communicate their ideas with others. They thrive on social interaction -- even if their jobs don't particularly support it. You'll be able to find them wandering from desk to desk gossiping about all the sordid news in the office. They can be powerful persuaders in their speech and make ideal salespeople and mediators. They love to negotiate and can work out the best deal for everyone involved. When properly stimulated, they can manage to keep their wandering mind focused and actually be quite productive.

When they are bored, bogged down with mundane detail-work, or forced to work with people who they consider droll, they can become mean-spirited and gossipy. Their moods can fluctuate vastly day to day, as well as their productivity. It is really against their nature to be forced into an average workday schedule and environment. They are happier travelling. If they are in an office they will need constant new stimulation. Most will be wanting advancement if they see this as a way to escape the limitations of their jobs. This can motivate them to put extra effort into their job.

If you work with a Gemini, try to avoid getting into any debates with them. They will surely win and it could end in some hard feelings on your part. They will need an accepting environment -- one that supports their need for multi-tasking.

- taken from an email forward

Real Smile / Fake Smile?

Regular readers of GEMINI will be aware that I have an unnatural obsession to smiles.

From Huey Wen's blog, there is a BBC survey on whether you are able to distinguish a 'real' smile from a 'fake' one.

Click here to take the test.

Most people are surprisingly bad at spotting fake smiles. One possible explanation for this is that it may be easier for people to get along if they don't always know what others are really feeling.

[...]

Fake smiles can be performed at will, because the brain signals that create them come from the conscious part of the brain and prompt the [...] major muscles in the cheeks to contract. These are the muscles that pull the corners of the mouth outwards.

Genuine smiles, on the other hand, are generated by the unconscious brain, so are automatic. When people feel pleasure, signals pass through the part of the brain that processes emotion. As well as making the mouth muscles move, the muscles that raise the cheeks [...] also contract, making the eyes crease up, and the eyebrows dip slightly.

[...]

Scientists distinguish between genuine and fake smiles by using a coding system called the Facial Action Coding System (FACS), which was devised by Professor Paul Ekman of the University of California and Dr Wallace V. Friesen of the University of Kentucky.

I scored 14/20. How about you? :)

Calling for a Co-Jammer!

I'm looking for someone with a passion in music, preferably who plays a musical instrument e.g. drums, piano or keyboard, to song-write or perform with.

I've always been looking for a jamming partner, and now that I've built up enough credibility as a singer-songwriter, I guess now I'm confident to enter a partnership without making the other party ask 'Who are you?'

I hope you're familiar with my songs and style. If not, do check out my 'Greatest Hits' at the sidebar and see if my style suits your liking. However, if your style differs from mine, perhaps we could fuse it into something great! ;)

Interested? Drop me a mail at fypher_wants_to_sing (at) yahoo.com with your details and preferably a demo. Waiting to hear from ya...

The jamming Geminian,
Karljam

The Jamming Test

Create your own Friend Test here
Only one submission per jammer accepted. The highest scorer gets a Starbucks treat.

> And Beve cheated. You owe me one Starbucks :P

> So far, everyone got Question #16 right! Muahahaha

> I think jammers are taking this test far too seriously (after-effects of X-M?). Beve called me up for the answers. Eileen is asking me how to score this test (haha, after-effects, definitely!).

To score this test, you need to read this obscure publication...

Gemini, C.Y., Why Am I A Gemini? Words and songs from a jamming Geminian, 2006 (Blogger Publishing, 2007 reprint)
You can find a sample here.

Ok, the tips are here for everyone to see. Melly and Itchy, stop saying I'm berat sebelah, ok? -_-" See comments for the conversation.

> To Itchy Kenny, I'm amazed at your answers! O.o

> Runaway Neko, you're not too bad yourself! O.o see people, it's not hard!!

Don't Go Breaking My Heart

See Elton John and Kiki Dee fooling around while singing Don't Go Breaking My Heart - one of my favourite duets!



Note: The song's title is misspelled in this original (1976) music video!

Some Changes

Dear jammers,

In appreciation to you for reading my blog and checking in ever so often -- though I know some of you never read the words but just look at the pictures, no matter -- I now have your photos up large on the top left portion of this page. So enjoy looking at your own pictures! If you haven't got an account yet, register here at MyBlogLog so we can have your photo up too everytime you drop by!

Personally, I feel the nicest spot would be the middle, though it's quite impossible to see your own pic in the centre. Well, unless you log off or sign in with another person's account, that is.
At the time of posting, the CenterJammer is Feon Rabbit! Congratulations!

And by the way, have you noticed my new site logo...
Point to ponder: Look at the twins. Are those two girls, or is one of them supposed to be a guy? You tell me!

Five Things You Never Knew About Me

Tagged by Bra... I mean Brenda. Here are five things (I hope) you never knew about me:

1. My guitar has only five strings instead of six. The first string tends to snap shortly after every replacement, and I'll continue using it until one of the middle ones break. Besides, I believe five strings are sufficient, don't you think?

2. If not for my parents' disapproval, I would be studying Mass Communications.

3. Only three people in this world call me Karl -- my ex-colleagues.
(i) Karl is German for "man". I chose that name because at that time, I felt I needed more courage.
(ii) As I was typing this post, a friend messaged me, "Hey Karl". Alright, so that makes four -_-"

4. The one food I can't stand is buah petai, usually eaten with sambal. My family loves it to bits.

5. I love to listen to my own songs, again and again. If I can't stand listening to it continuously for at least five times, that song will not be launched.

Thanks for tagging me, Brenda. To return the favour, I tag:
Cedric (For tagging me some time ago, but I never got around to doing it)
Ji Yuan (Same as above)
Emily (Um... again, same as above *blush*)
Nalini (Yay! No need to tag yourself anymore! :P)
Chen Seng (Something for your itchy hands! ;) )

By Any Other Name...

Karljam Retro Hit: Feels Like Home, one of the earliest babies in GEMINI, has changed hosts too! Thanks for growing with my babies!

In thermodynamic terms, I would be labelled a heater.
More precisely, a high temperature reservoir.


In mechanical terms, my system of molecules has a high mean kinetic energy.

My friends say I look tired. But I'm not. I should not. For I slept 12 hours the previous day. Why then, did I still wake up a heater?

My friends say I look lifeless. But I'm not. I'm full of life. Ready to take on any challenges, eager to face the day. Why then, am I still this way?

I've been sick so long that I'm now sick of telling my pals that I'm sick. So naturally I came up with a few alternatives:
I'm unwell... but that relays a different meaning altogether.
I'm hot... but my pals think I'm kidding and laugh their heads off.
I'm an air-conditioner working on reverse... same result as above.

[Edit 7:07pm] Have finally recovered! Suddenly the world looks lighter and brighter. I say one thing -- that times of sickness remind us to appreciate the times when we're well and taking it for granted. Being well. Hmm, that's reason enough to be thankful!

I Have A Hot Body

My fever doesn't seem to like leaving. Like a person who talks and talks and thinks himself so funny even after you're not listening, my fever has called my head its home.

I actually thought I recovered last night. But this morning I woke up feeling extremely dazed and "off the ground" that I spent thirty minutes trying to get my thoughts together and getting hold of the situation.

Only after thirty minutes did I realize that my old friend, Fever is back. That's how it creeps up on you. Realization, not Fever.

Curse Michael Buble for making Fever sound so cool... And Tata Young too.
picsource

Was that my bed calling me back to sleep?

I'm here because I can't sleep. And because I'm here, I won't be able to sleep. One causes another, but what causes the other? It's a chicken-and-egg scenario.

Anyway, in my semi-conscious state, I've decided to attend this...


And despite my initial inhibitions about going to a meet where I virtually (pun intended) know almost none of the people, I guess opportunities to meet fellow Penang bloggers don't come that often. What the heck lah. Just go for it, right?

Look forward to meeting you jammers there! (More info about the meet here.)

Ok, gotta go. My bed's calling me again. Alright alright, be quiet already!

More Fluff

Do you find it weird that sometimes when you're supposed to be somewhere doing something else, like for example in Dreamland, playing among the clouds, that you just feel like you can't? My eyes are stinging from drowsiness but in my mind, there's no such hint of slowing down.

In fact I think the operations team is working overtime on some misinformed mission. But how do you talk to your subconcience when it has no time to hear you out?

...silence...

A slight pause ensues now as I briefly hover my fingers above the keyboard, wondering what I should be typing; and whether I should be typing at all. I love playing with words, it has become an integral part of me that I live it, so to speak, but with caution not to bring itself to the point of eccentricity.

Guess I should really be off to Dreamland now. I hear they've added more fluff there already.

For The Children...

My friend, Saijan, describes his first time as a voluntary tutor in his post Nice XP:

"1st feel quite nervous ler... coz need to teach some children.. but after finis the session i feel very happy der, coz can apply wat i had learned oso can help those kids... they are quite smart n cute even thru abit slower compare to normal kids. m enjoy the session n thx to chunyee who give me the chance ler... "

You're very much welcome and thanks to you too for helping us.

Jammers, listen up. A group of volunteers is tutoring neglected and/or abandoned children at the Children's Protection Society (CPS) Penang, every Saturday, from 10am - 12pm. It's open to all undergraduates and members of the public, so anyone can help out and everyone is welcome.

The children range from preschool ages up till Form 5, as well as several slow learners.

This is a great way to contribute to society and to make a difference in these children's lives, what more with the Chinese New Year coming! The only requirement is that you love children :)

To become a voluntary tutor or for more info, email me or leave a comment.
___________
Read this post: Oh, Joy!

ShoutOut Humour

The following conversation is compiled by Dragon Head of Project010...

Dragon Head: mampus.... my dream to score A in moral is totally gone.. I am too good for moral

Lasker: Get A++ instead .. yahoo

Itchy: haha to score A in moral,u have to be a bad bad boy

Dragon Head: so sad.. i wanted to go for the Presidentail Award.. cos of moral i will be getting the toilet bowl award

aL:ironically.. ppl very bermoral usually dont score for moral wan.. those tak berapa bermoral wan leh... hmmm

Dragon Head: Muakakaka.....!!! aL is speaking the truth thru experience

CY: Am surprised stupid moral is still here after all this time... :S

Dragon Head: yea.. and it will still be here till .........................

CY: It's supposed to change name to PENDIDIKAN MEMORY

Dragon Head: I am gonna elect CY to be Menteri Pendidikan d!!! lets vote him!!!

CY: Yay! Then I can go to parliment and make sexy remarks

Dragon Head: yea cool... Muakkaa... Vote for Tan Sri Datuk CY!!!!

aL:yalar. cos i got an A in SPM ma. hahahahha!

aL:see how bermoral i am?!

Itchy: I'm voting for CY also

Dragon Head: aL.. u wanna be opposition ar?

aL:err ya can? rocket!

Dragon Head: rocket people take d la... y dun u take piggy? i draw for u

CY: Cannot cannot! The logo will be haram. Heck, even the name will be haram in parliment!

Read more >>

Don't Judge a Gender by their Name

You notice how some girls' names actually sound like they belong to a guy? There are some extreme cases where after mentioning my friend's name, my other friend will refer to her as "he..." and quickly correcting himself: "sh-she..."

Mine, by the way, is totally unisex. Seriously.

Question: Is your name unisex?

Thank You, Joggers!

We sold newspapers at Botanical Gardens for fund-raising, to overwhelming response from the public.

On behalf of GKUSM, I wish to thank all the aunties, uncles, brothers and sisters who helped us this morning. I'm proud to say Penangites are generous, friendly and charitable. Special regards to those who supported our efforts even though they don't read the language :)