Catching Up

Met up with Peter & Lia & Chris over some excellent grub at Al Ameen's this evening. Referenced a range of colleagues from our collective pasts who, somehow or other, have gone their separate ways. Not sure that dwelling on the past is such a good thing. Unless we learn from. Which we rarely do.

And dwelling on the future isn't so hot either.

But grasping the present moment seems to me fundamentally sound. Especially when the grub & company make it worth holding onto.

Overloaded

Spent the evening at the cinema watching the latest Spiderman movie. Very young, very enthusiastic audience for the screening. Enjoyed them having a great time. Personally felt the thing was too long, too loud visually, too angsty, too complicated, too much. But appreciated the fact that it was well crafted for an audience that might appreciate those qualities.

And, of course, I'm too old.

Recovered

Got to the gym for the first time since running that foolhardy 5 km at West Coast Park. The debilitating ache in my thigh muscles had finally eased by this morning and I was keen to see if I could handle my usual stint on the elliptical trainer without undue strain. I did, but only just.

Sometimes just keeping going is enough.

Inventing Reality

I've been airing a clip or two from the classic Elia Kazan movie of Streetcar. Fascinating to watch Brando re-inventing acting. Munching & mumbling his way through the Napoleonic code  sequence.

And the sweat! And the itching! (Another bit.)

Made me think of the last time I watched On The Waterfront and came to the conclusion that he was acting in a different movie from everyone else. A better one.

Flat

It's been a long sort of day - which day isn't? - but it occurred to me some five minutes ago that, all in all, it had gone well and was, to most, if not all, intents and purposes, over. I suppose marking my last essay of the day contributed to my general sense of well-being. And then it all sort of fell apart. 

I don't mean that anything particularly unfortunate happened. Simply, whatever energy I had possessed up to that point mysteriously dissipated and I felt almost completely spent. I had nothing left to offer the world; not that the world seemed to care. 

Indeed, in the utter flatness of it all I found that odd freedom of not caring in any way at all about anything whatsoever. In its way it's a pleasant state to be in, for a few minutes or so. But best to leave behind before it becomes addictive. 

Getting Out

Early in the day I had no intention of going out due to a daunting workload which non-negotiably had to be cleared today. So when Noi went off with Rozana & Aishah, who'd stayed over at our place since they'd come down from Malaysia to visit baby Arissa, I took it that I'd just stay in for the day and graft whilst others did the socialising. A bit sad, but necessary, and there's an end to it.

So I was taken aback when Noi came back around 4.00 pm with Aishah's mum & dad & brothers in tow (with whom we'd been munching some excellent grub up at Sembawang late yesterday evening) and announced they were off to Arab Street before they'd be catching the bus up to JB to make their return home this evening. The problem was that I still had scripts to mark despite making excellent progress on all aspects of work in the course of the day. So initially I thought it impossible to go along with them. That is until I realised I'd made heroic inroads into what remained whilst Noi was completing a prayer and Rozaidah & family watched a bit of tv ahead of their jaunt to Arab Street & environs.

So I ended up accompanying them to Kampong Glam where I enjoyed two very jolly cups of tea, a couple of curry puffs and a slice of murtabak. And somehow completed my marking in between (actually finishing off the final script in Masjid Sultan after I'd finished the prayer for Asr there.) Must say, my ability to mark anywhere comes in handy. And also must say, the experience reminded me of both the joys of getting out and about with family and how important it is let the fresh air in even when it doesn't seem there can be time to do so.

In Conversation

Various muscles, especially those at the tops of my legs, aching like billy-o after yesterday's compromised 'triumph'. Probably the last time I run round West Coast Park. But at least I don't seem to have done any active damage to my lower back, so feel reasonably pleased to have, to a limited degree, defied doctor's orders without undue consequences.

And enjoyed getting out and about today at Holland Village, whence I made my way in the early afternoon to meet up with old chum Tony Green. We participated in what might be termed 'good craic' in the Emerald Isle, though our craic often touched on the kind of serious stuff that old geezers often find conducive.

Much consideration of the inadequacies of various manifestations of bureaucracy - of which we’ve witnessed a good deal in our (fortunately) expansive lifetimes. I suppose the ironies involved are funny in a depressing manner. Anyway, I found myself laughing a lot.

Triumph

Finally I got my sweaty hands on a trophy. The only problem: it rightly belonged to someone else. 

Mind Wide Open

I like to think I'm open-minded in the best sense - open to new ideas, ready to revise tired opinions & prejudices in the light of new information or a better understanding. But I do wonder if I'm deceiving myself on this. Especially since I'm aware of how easy, indeed, effortless it can be to trick ourselves into believing what we'd really like to believe. So I sort of run tests of myself at times, trying to identify distinct examples of actual instances in which a genuine shift has taken place in my thinking (and, hopefully, for the better.) 

One recent quite dramatic shift, not so much of an idea or opinion, but a perspective on something in the news, has been occupying me, on and off, for the last couple of months. This concerns the case of Lucy Letby, a name not all that familiar to inhabitants of the Far Place (at least nobody I've mentioned her to has recognised it) but someone I am sure almost every British citizen knows well - she being the neo-natal nurse convicted of killing seven babies and attempting to murder quite a few others.

It's obviously a dreadful story, and when she was being tried some three years ago I was convinced of her guilt, based on the press coverage of the trial which seemed pretty thorough to me. But here's the thing. Gradually over those years, starting from a story raising concerns about the statistics cited in court based on her duty roster, I've come to think the complete opposite and now I find myself siding with those who regard her conviction as extremely doubtful. Of course, I can't be sure I'm right, and the fact that the grief of the parents who lost those children must be still raw, makes we wary of writing about this at all.

But the fact that I may have fallen for biased press coverage and an inadequate system of justice is deeply troubling and a reminder that keeping an open mind might just be a moral imperative rather than simply a sign of 'good' character.

Seeking Alternatives

Highlight of the day: set my ears on fire listening to Mason Bates's Alternative Energy. It's difficult to be cynical about the state of modern music, the plight of the USA and just how toxic the Internet has turned out to be when you hear something like this. And for free.