http://henrywoo.blog.co.uk/

Last entry

Thu, 08 Sep 2005 16:49:23 +0200

I will cease to post any more articles on this weblog. A word of appreciation to those who have visited.
Please feel free to visit me at:-
http://www.blogigo.com/basement39
Thank you!

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Moving out

Tue, 30 Aug 2005 14:41:34 +0200

I will cease to contribute articles on this weblog for the time being. This is just a replica of what I've on another weblog.
A word of appreciation to my fellow bloggers who have
visited.
Feel free to visit me at http://www.blogigo.com/basement39
or simply under the pen name of henry.

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The Fighting Cock (part 4)

Mon, 15 Aug 2005 14:51:03 +0200

With times heavily on hand before night class started, I would go for a beer or two. For theory, we combined with trainees from company 'A'. We were the noisy lots, more like a market-place rather than a class. The instructor intervened. He said, 'for those who are not interested, you can do whatever you like, just don't disturb those who are interested.' Hearing that, I pulled for myself
another chair, lying flat...for a nap. On seeing that, he was furious.
Instructor : 'Henry, what are you doing?
Henry : 'sleeping!'
Instructor : 'who says you can sleep?'
Henry : 'you just said so! Sleeping does not generate any disturbance.?
Instructor : 'by that, I don't mean you can sleep!........'
I noticed that quite a number of trainees in front were looking to their right, towards the door. Standing over there was a tough guy looking all over the class trying to fish out who the trouble-maker was.
Some trainees urged the instructor to continue with the lessons. With backers around, he said he wanted to continue.....lashing at me mercilessly. I was left a poor soul without any chances of retaliating. For once, 'the fighting cock' became a lamed duck. I lose the battle not to a kung-fu master but a strict disciplinary master.

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Happy Birthday, Singapore

Tue, 09 Aug 2005 04:55:16 +0200

Today marks the 40th years of my country's nation building.

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The fighting cock (part 3)

Tue, 02 Aug 2005 16:15:40 +0200

Gambling was the norm of the day, during break times and even when classes were in session whenever instructor was not around. Trainees from other company, let's say company 'A' joined in. Caught on numerous occasions and reprimanded by
instructors, bad habits die hard. Gambling persisted and instructor somehow gave up.

Once, I was looking at the cards of a trainee from company 'A'. His cards were so rotten, I could not control myself but to laugh. He ticked me off, showering me with abusive languages. I just picked up a five-pounder metal slab, a counter weight, from the table and smashed it onto his forehead. He was stunned by my reaction. Soon, blood started oozing out and a big lump started appearing. His
forehead was badly swollen. He left the class without a word. Few minutes later, I noticed that two trainees from company 'A' were attending to another of their fellow colleague. He was bleeding profusely from his mouth. I was told that the
metal slab flew to his mouth after smashing onto the forehead of the first person. Two of his front teeth were gone. Feeling bad, I offered him some money to consult a dentist.

The two of them went to seek permission from the Institution's training instructor (the tae-kwon-do black-belt holder) to consult doctors. The one with
the swollen forehead told the instructor that he bumped against something. The one with two front teeth missing said that he tripped and fell. Though
permission were granted, the instructor felt that something fishy was going on. He started to rope in trainees, to find out as to what actually happened. No one dare to speak anything. Finally, one trainee from company 'A' told him the truth. And that trainee told me not to get angry for letting the cat out of the bag as he was pressurized. He was afraid that I might bash him up.

Came face to face with this instructor in class. Shaking his head slowly, he gave me a faint smile.....a smile that's trying to convey a message across:- 'fighting cock, have another fight again?'

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The Fighting Cock (part 2)

Tue, 12 Jul 2005 10:05:33 +0200

I started off my career in the marine industry as an apprentice. To prepare us for the challenge ahead, the company offered a one year full-time and two year part-time studies at one of the institution. There were thirteen of us. In term of sizes or of built. I was the smallest among them. Just because of that, the biggest-sized in our batch would find ways to antagonized me. Not knowing the bad temper that I possessed, I told my other colleagues that I would lay hands on him if so provoked in future.

One day, we were having lunch at the training centre instead of at the canteen, with fans blowing at our direction. Well, they were having a round of gambling. What happened next was a dollar note landed on my plate of food. Naturally, I started to look up. There, this giant ticked me off, telling me not to look at him as the dollar note belonged to him. Without hesitation, I got hold of a chair and smashed it onto his head. Luckily for him, one fellow colleague blocked it and he got off with slight injuries. He threatened to report this matter to the training manager of the company. I told him it was not an honour by doing so. Instead, I offered him an advice, that was to complain to his mother that today, as a six-footer three and fat, he was beaten up by a person who was half his size. Less than two months later, I was playing with my fellow colleagues, some pushing around at the corridor of the institution. He was sitting on the railings and before I banged on him, he pushed me away from behind. Needless to say, another bout took place. Instincts told me to aim for his eyes. One punch was more than enough to give him a black-eye. Now, all this fighting was witnessed by two training instructors from the institution.

When class started we were called up by the first instructor. He made it plain to us that whatever happened, he just wanted the both of us to shake hands and called it quit. When the second instructor came in, facing the whole class of about thirty students, he gave an insight of what fighting was all about. He explained that in fighting, one must not be afraid of sizes, if not, then we were already half defeated. He was full of praise for me, taking on a giant. He nicknamed me 'The Fighting Cock'.

I understood why I was praised instead of being reprimanded. For this second instructor was a fighter in his own rights. He was a tae-kwon-do black-belt holder taking in students when he was in Australia. These fightings soon spread like wild fires in the company. Henry 'The Fighting Cock' shot to fame.

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The fighting cock (Part 1)

Thu, 30 Jun 2005 05:28:37 +0200

Since young, I've learned to defend myself against external threats without fear. With my kind of bad temperamental nature, I would not hesitate to lay
hands on anybody, if so provoked.
I always opt for the 'an eye for an eye' or 'a tooth for a tooth' kind of tactics. Shoot me with arrows, I'll draw my gun. Spray me with bullets and I'll pull out my cannon. Bombard me with cannonballs and I'll not think twice into
activating my ICBM. That was the henry in younger days.

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Animations (4)

Tue, 21 Jun 2005 02:18:33 +0200

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Animations (3)

Mon, 13 Jun 2005 09:57:56 +0200

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Animation (2)

Sun, 12 Jun 2005 10:58:33 +0200

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Animation (1)

Wed, 08 Jun 2005 08:52:04 +0200

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The Spyros Case

Wed, 01 Jun 2005 04:32:08 +0200

On 26th December 2004, a dozen Asian countries were struck by tsunamis, claiming well over 200,000 lives with a further million people displaced. Countries around the world responded swiftly, with billions of dollars pledged towards the relief package and reconstruction of the affected countries. Way back in Singapore, the Government, Singapore Red Cross, SPH and numerous organisations appealed for donations. Within a
space of one week, tens of millions of dollars
were raised, tons of foods, clothings and essential items collected. This disaster reminds me of an industrial accident that took place in Singapore 27 years ago, termed 'The Spyros Case'.

One ship or 'vessel' as in marine terms, was
undergoing repairs at one of the major shipyards in Singapore. In fact, this vessel was undergoing major overhauling of the Engine Room. Engine room is where all the turbines and machinery parts needed to propel and operate the ship are located. There are lots of fuel oil pipes running from main deck down to engine room. Pipes are welded onto flanges. After which the flanges will be coupled up with bolts and nuts. What happened on that fateful day?

There was this particular pipe line to be renewed. As it was a fuel oil pipe, with gases inside, the shipyard's safety officer did not approved any hot work. Cold work permit was issued instead, that was, to dismantle the bolts and nuts by using spanners. As the bolts and nuts were heavily corroded, the pipe fitter encountered lots of difficulties. When the saftety officer was not around, for his own convenience, he used an oxy-acetylene cutting torch instead. The sparks
produced got into contact with the gases in the pipe. Gases ignited and it back-fired all the way to engine room. Flash fire occured, explosion took place followed by fire in engine room. Initially, a dozen workers were confirmed dead with a few hundred workers injured with burns all over their bodies. Appeals were sent out for cash and blood donations. Singaporeans and foreign workers
alike responded in a way I have not seen before. Taxi drivers and hawkers from all over the island donated their days taking towards the fund set up for the victims' families. Workers from other industries donated generously. Companies after companies sent their employees on chartered buses to destinated make-shift tents for blood donations. The response was overwhelming. Day after day, more and more casualties were announced. Most of the injured suffered third degree burn, some could not make it. Singapore was plunged into a sombre state. The atmospheric presence in Singapore was very eerie as though mourning for the deceased. At last count, 76 families loss their loved ones with hundreds
injured. Singapore experienced one of its worst casualties from a single accident in peace time. The pipe fitter was found guilty and put behind bars for a few years. The vessel 'Spyros' was later sent to a scrapeyard, never to sail the sea again.

This industrial accident had such an impact on me that whenever I think of it, the date of that fateful day just surface in my mind ..... automatically ..... October, 12th, 1978.

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Simple mathematics

Mon, 23 May 2005 03:59:24 +0200

On my eldest daughter when she was a 6 year-old kid. We were having our meals at one of the KFC outlets in a shopping mall, facing the main road. She pestered my wife to buy her a belt. My wife explained that belts were meant for boys and not girls. Looking out acoss the road, she spotted a lady waiting for public transport. She said, "mummy, that big sister is wearing a belt, can you explain?" My wife told her that only adults wore belts
and promised to buy her one when she grew up. She replied that when she grew up, she should be able to buy one herself and she can even afford to buy us one. She
complained that her mum was talking about the future and not the present.

After our meals, we went shopping. She kept running around. My wife told her that if she misbehaved, she will call in the police to catch her. Instant reply from her, "If I am apprehended by the police, how many daughters are you left with?"

Nowadays, children are smarter than parents. You threatened them with police, they frightened you with simple mathematical symbols ..... the minus sign.

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Encounter on the train

Mon, 16 May 2005 10:38:24 +0200

Standing two arms length away from me on the MRT train was a lady in her late thirties. Though not convincingly pretty compared to those around,
somehow I was captivated by her.

I started to look hard at her side face. Not feeling comfortable with the nature of stares, she showed signs of uneasiness, giving me a quick
glance through the corners of her eyes and fidgeting most of the times. Sizing her up to be the shy type , I changed tactics. I would turn my head s..l..o..w..l..y, sweeping across her face with my eyes , to and fro. She noticed what was going on but at least it was within her comfort zone. These went on for quite some times. Further down the stations, a young and beautiful lady boarded the train, standing next to me. On the contrary, she was an exhibitionist. Like a model, I was fascinated by her poses. The older lady looked in our directions, bowed her head and stared blankly onto the floor board. Her body language told me that she felt neglected and that I was a fickle-minded person. To ensure her of my truthfulness, I erased all images captured on the young lady from my eyes and refocussed my thoughts on her. Giving full attentions, this time I became bolder by looking straight into her eyes. She lifted her face a little and adjusted her posture to face me. At last, she was giving me the honour, with her blessings, to admire what I deemed was beautiful.

Good times did not last long. Soon, it was time for her to alight. Looking directly into my eyes for the first time, she presented me with a smile.....smile of appreciation that I have chosen her over a much younger and prettier lady. Nodding my head with a smile. I just wanted to tell
her.....'you're just beautiful, thank you'.

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Encounter of the unexpected

Sun, 08 May 2005 09:11:36 +0200

Once, during my schooling days, I was going to my classmate's house which was within walking
distance. To save up on time and energy, I opted for short-cuts. I entered a stretch of sandy path which was quite deserted in the afternoon.

Everything went fine until I saw a dog walking towards me from the opposite direction. From a distance, I started to stare at him. He
reciprocated by doing the same to me. I kept
staring at him without lifting my sight off him. So was he. As we passed by each other, I turned my head around to look at him. Ridiculous! he
followed suit, turning his head around while pacing slowly forward. I told myself , "no, no, no, as a human being, I won't allow a dog to
stare at me, to bully me. I am going to teach this dog a lesson. I'm going to use the stoop-down-pick-a-rock tactics to frighten him." And that was exactly what I did.

The action taken by me proved effective. 'He' started running ... at least from
the dog's point of view. What happened? The 'He' referred to myself. The dog turned around and chased me. Throwing the stone aside and not at the dog, I just ran all the way. For how long he chased me, I didn't know. I didn't dare to look
back. Maybe that was precisely what the dog wanted to tell me, "Don't stare at me!"

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Women

Fri, 06 May 2005 11:28:51 +0200

By and large, women are more sensitive and hence more suspicious of what is happening around them.
Some years back, my former colleagues organised an outing. Activities included bowling, dinner and disco dancing. I requested for karaoke. They obliged, karaoke was an additional item.

We started off with bowlings. Most of us were beginners. Ladies' colleagues throwing balls with both hands, rolling slowly forward... hit some pins and started falling in slow motions. Wrong tactics of throwing balls...from a height, hit the floor with a bang and into the drain. Games of the day were funs and not rules. Our average score? 250 to 300 ! I mean, needed another 250 pins
to reach 300, the perfect score.
For dinner, we have steam-boats. Lots of uncook dishes were available. Prawns, beefs, slices of fish, fishballs, squids, clayfishes,cockles...etc. We would place the prawns and whatever we liked onto a scoop individually and put it into a pot of boiling water which was placed in the centre of the table. For cockles, I would like to eat it raw instead of cooked.

Next item? Karaoke, of course ! Crooned my ways through the night with whatever vibration cords provided by mother nature. Colleagues applauded and my singings praised. But, actually they were just encouraging me as my singings got out of
tunes. Remember games of the day? 'Have funs and not rules.'

The moment we entered the disco, everybody were at the dance floor except me. As a guy who did not like to sway my hips, I found it more enjoyable watching. With beers on hands and legs tapping to the tempo, I enjoyed every bits of it.Reached home at the wee hours. Took off everything, jumped into bed. Woke up next day with hangovers and with barrage of questions from wife.
Wife : “Where were you actually, last night?”
Me : “bowling, dinner, karaoke and disco.”
Wife : “how come there were bloods on your shirt?”
Me : “I did not injured myself, what blood?'
Wife : “ I don't kno...w.” (angry)
Me : “ oh yes, for dinner, I ate raw cockles, I must have got the blood stain from it”
Wife : “ I don't kno...w, only you yourself knew what you have committed last night.”

Now... , it dawned upon me that she suspected me of having a jolly good times with ladies last night, a virgin, maybe. I was dumbfounded. Could not decide whether to laugh or to get angry. I told her, “take a good look at your husband.
Hoping for a virgin to visit me in my dreams is already hard, enjoying with one physically is harder that the 'hardest' words you can find in a dictionary.”

With that, I headed back to bed. Hugging tightly onto my bolster, I went into dreamland, in search of ......

Women...grr...grrrrr...grrrrrrrrrr.

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Stress or Insomnia

Mon, 02 May 2005 09:54:00 +0200

At my workplace, heard a lady colleague saying that she could not sleep. Taught her a trick or two to overcome the problem. I told her :- “ If you want to have a good night sleep, free your mind of all thoughts. Counting sheeps jumping over the fence is a thing of the past. Never think of a
tall and handsome guy, by doing so, you will definitely get more excited and maybe some oohs and aahs will be coming out from your room. How to sleep? Solution? Well...just think of me and no one else! The moment my face appears, you will start complaining, 'henry so ugly, thinking of him is just a waste of my time, might as well get some sleep'. There you are, you will be sleeping like
a log in no time – thanks to me.'”

Though I poked fun on myself, it was for a worthy cause. I wanted to drive home the point that we should relax ourselves, both mentally and physically. Any thoughts that stimulate excitement or unhappiness will result in sleepless nights.
I , personally have gone through all these
torments. With problems on hand, I would wake up automatically in the middle of the nights as though a timer had been etched into my mind. Going through my problems, my body became stiffed and
started trembling with fears. These went on for a few months. I was totally stressed out. I started to communicate with my inner-self, “here I am , trying to find a solution to these problems, now, what?, pondering over the problems nights after nights and it came to noughts, with whole body shivering.” I pacified myself to cool down and leave it to mother nature. I managed to convince myself after a tough fight. Nowadays, whatever happens, be it personal or work-related, no matter how serious it might be, I will be able to give myself a decent sleep. Not because I am an irresponsible person but I have learned to impose self-control over my emotional feelings as far as sleep is concern.

To combat insomnia or stress, the battle is only a matter of you against yourself. Let's overcome it and have a gooooooood sleep.
Goodnight !

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The Golden Bracelet

Sun, 01 May 2005 02:53:16 +0200

With referral from the clinical doctor, my mom was admitted to Hospital for five days observation . Earlier in the day, she couldn’t stand on her feet after urinating. The test results that came in day after day were encouraging. That left her with the last medical report, X –ray. As the report came in, we were told that both her kidneys have shrunk incredibly. On the fifth day, she was transferred to another General Hospital

We were given two options by the Doctor. One was for my mom to undergo kidney dialysis. From the Doctor’s professional point of view, it was not advisable because of my mom’s age at seventy-six. Her heart might not be able to withstand it and furthermore, it would only prolong her life for a mere few months at most. Second option was for her to survive just on medication. After discussion
with my siblings, weighing the pros and cons, we chose the second option – medication. Nobody would like to stay in the hospital, so was my mom. After one week, we took her home. On the second day, she complained of chest pain and she was readmitted to hospital.

Everything went on fine for the next few days except for her kidneys. Then, her conditions deteriorated. One of her eyes shut and she couldn’t talk. Her body was itched all over and she couldn’t scratch properly with her hands jerking. The purpose of kidney dialysis was to remove all unwanted waste products from the blood and to maintain the blood pressure. Because my mom was just on medication, the waste products from the blood was not expelled but circulated over and over again. That caused her body to be itched and her hands jerked. As her son, it was my duty to do the scratching for her. Days went by. Received
news that my mom was placed under DIL (dangerously ill list) as she was in a coma. We were told to be mentally prepared by the doctor as she was given
forty-eight hours to live. My siblings and I took turns to be by her side twenty-four hours a day. Sitting by her side, holding her weak, fragile hand … the hand that fed me, bathed me was really painful. My eyes welled up, followed by big teardrops streaming down my cheeks. I bowed my head, hoping some kind of God of whatever faith would appear before me. I would kneel before "Him", begging "Him" to save my mom. I would open my heart and accept "Him" as my
saviour and as my God. It was only the naive side of me. Forty-eight hours have gone by, nothing happened. According to the nurses-in-attendance, from their experiences and observations, given these kind of low blood pressure, my mom should have left this world. Seemed like she had some unfulfilled wishes or simply waiting for someone to turn up. All family members have visited her
including in-laws. Then, it dawned upon my sister the incidence regarding the "gold bracelet". My eldest brother had known his wife since they were
youngsters. They worked together, played together and even lived together. One day, he told my mom he was finally getting married. My mom was very happy, bought a gold bracelet, intended to present it to my sis-in-law on her wedding
day and that was when my sis-in-law would offer a cup of tea to my mom. But, for reasons unknown to us, my brother did not went through any wedding ceremony, no wedding celebration…nothing. And during all these years, my sis-in-law addressed
my mom as auntie. This incidence was made known to my brother. On that night, my sister brought the gold bracelet to hospital. Putting it onto the palm of my mom and grabbing it with her hand, my sister told my sis-in-law, "now, I represent
mom and hand over the gold bracelet to you". After receiving the gold bracelet, with a cup of tea on hand, my sis-in-law said " mom, please accept and drink this cup of tea". My sister took the cup and wetted my mom’s lips with some tea. At that very moment, my mom murmured something. Though inaudible … she responded! Was that her unfulfilled wishes? Handling over the gold bracelet and hearing my sis-in-law addressing her as ‘mom’ for the first time? We were all overjoyed. The next day, I visited her with my wife. My wife started to massage her right hand. She responded by lifting her left hand and said "it’s ok, it’s enough". She regained consciousness and was able to talk and move, though restricted.

After a few weeks, she was transferred to a Hospice , a hospital for the terminally ill. We visited her on a regular basis. On December 11th
2003, at 0340hrs, received a call from my nephew that mom was having difficulties in breathing and hospital staff requested our presence. All of us were there by 0410hrs. At 0438 hrs, my mom gave out a deep sigh. Sigh of happiness that all her children were there to see her? Sigh of
contentment that all her children have grown up? It was not to be, in fact she was mustering all her strength to take in her last breath of earthly air. I was orphaned from that very moment. My
world collapsed. My mind went wild with memories, to the day when I was a young boy. I recalled the time she fetched me to and from school, bought me
ice-creams, sweets, dressed me, how she scolded and caned me for being naughty. Now I realized that all these caning were parts and parcels of a mother’s good intentions. I told myself that I should have treated her even better when she was around. Why must human be such that when we
possessed something, we do not know how to treasure it, only to regret when we loss them. I came to terms with myself. This is what life is all about. Wherever my mom might be now, she will
have all my blessings.
'In memory of my beloved Mom'
Born : 1928
Departed 11th December 2003

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