bigMonkey

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random thoughts

My my, hey hey
Rock and roll is here to stay
It’s better to burn out than to fade away
My my, hey hey

Out of the blue and into the black
They give you this but you pay for that
And once you’re gone you can never come back
When you’re out of the blue and into the black

King is gone but he’s not fogotten
Is this the story of Johnny Rotten?
It’s better to burn out than it is to rust
The king is gone but not forgotten

Hey hey, my my
Rock and roll can never die
There’s more to the picture than meets the eye
Hey hey, my my

I woke up this morning, if you can call 5 AM morning with an extremely sore throat, a stuffed nose and body aches. I guess I caught a flu somewhere between there and here. Most likely on the metal tube in the sky, but I was also told that it is very typical for travelers to get sick right after extreme travel, and changes in climate, sleep patterns and food. Trifecta.

As I am a fan of lists, and am using them to try and manage all the moving parts of my life right now, here is a list including some of the past few days observations:

I miss my family, and the almost daily interactions with them. But I dont miss my friends. I mean yeah, i miss em, but not in the way I expected. Since we didnt always see each other, we keep in touch sort of the same way we always have, only from farther away and at more odd times. I have called a few using Facetime, and some texting, and some email, and the obvious Twitter and FB updates, so it is sort of the same rhythm of reaching out and touching someone. Figuratively. But I also know that my friends are in my corner on this and that is so encouraging. They have always wanted the best outcome, whatever that may be.

I have not worn flip flops in years, so that spot between the big toe and the other one next to it. yeah, that hurts.

Singapore is an interesting mix of both the ultra modern and the Colonial. I walked across town toward the Orchard Road, past some old building, cemeteries, and houses, and intermixed was an extremely modern looking university, and even more dynamic was the architecture of the shopping malls. Rows and rows of malls, some blocks long and multi-storied. I had heard of Orchard Road, but to experience if first hand is pretty crazy. Pretty much every luxury good is represented, interspersed with cheap electronic shops, custom tailors, and a McDonald’s or seven. Starbucks also seems to have a huge footprint here, but i expected that. I am also learning that breakfast is a very different concept here, and I am now making either an espresso in the morning to jolt the gray matter, or when I am out, I order a Kopi O Po, which is a long black coffee with some sugar and extra hot water. Starbucks would call it an Americano. It would also cost you 3x more.

As my friend Chris H. reminded me. – “linens”. I am a jeans and tshirt kind of guy right now. And of course I wear the occasional button down and a suit or two. But I own no shorts, and bought my flip flops yesterday. I have mostly been wearing jeans, V neck t’s and either my steel toed Doc Martins or my black Chuck lows. #WWHMD. Went short shopping yesterday but just couldn’t let loose of 89 bones for a pair of shorts at the Levi store. But I dont want to buy anything anyway, as there still looms the possibility of packing up and heading back to the good ol’ US of A and set up shop at Nike, where is I needed shorts, I can get em on the employee discount.

Speaking of which, still no news.

Monday night Football is seen live here on Tuesday morning at 9:30 AM. Which makes me feel a little like Marty McFly. Call me before you call your bookie.

Last night I went to a dinner party with Smitty, which is how my brother Michael is known across Asia. He has many good friends, and I was welcomed instantly. It was a Thanksgiving dinner, with a roasted turkey, a deep fried turkey and all the trimmings. I helped carve the birds, and made some pretty decent gravy from the drippings. I was also very encouraged by the stories of others who decided to also pack up and head to Singapore to either augment their careers with international experience, or to change gigs all together. Even more exciting was hearing about how the sort of week over week experience of living here is. Almost all said that they work hard, long hours at their respective jobs, but then do a half day Friday, catch the first plane to Bali or some other neighboring island and sit on the beach, surf, eat, and recharge. And it seems to be cheaper and faster than taking a weekender from SF to Fresno and back.

Each person I have spoken with about this move, and my need to locate a gig has been able to provide a name, some advice and lots of encouragement about the booming infrastructure of Singapore. I feel confident about getting a role.

I have been staying in one of the housemate’s room this past week, and he returns tomorrow. Smitty flies to the States to work on some stuff with the Yahooligans! I am going to move into his room for a few weeks while he is gone, so I will be able to continue to at least have the luxury of a launching pad for my interviews and explorations, as well as office space to continue to work on a UI/UX project I picked up before I left.

I am an American living in Singapore working on a project for a client in Toronto while searching for an employment pass and eventually my PR.

I may just fit right in.

I have 19 days left in the United States. Things are moving at lightspeed now. It seems like last week that I began putting the plan to move to Singapore together. And now I am sitting here looking at my countdown calendar thinking “Really? Less than 3 weeks? But there is so much I still have to do.”

Which I think is the point of this life lesson. And I am not going to get all preachery on your ass, telling you call your mom more, or walk the dog more often, or tell your girl you love her and really really mean it…

Ok, I lied. Call your mom. Walk your dog. Tell her you love her. If you don’t do it today, do it tomorrow. I am finding that as my days come to a close in the US, my interactions with people and places are changing. And it’s not like I am dying or anything. I think that I am just more aware of the scarcity of my time here, and I am trying to make better use of it, get a better rate of return on my investment. What sucks is that I should have done this month ago, or in some cases, years.


I woke up this morning looking at my book collection. What am I going to do with all my books during this move. Some of them I have read many times over, and will box em and keep em in someone’s garage. Most likely I’ll have them shipped to me once I am settled in Singapore. But then there are the topical and seasonal business books, ones I have read because they have been relevant to my current work, and then shelved. You have these books on your shelves as well – The Tipping Point, Good To Great, Six Pixels… the marketing, social, better business books. I have about 60 of those. So what do I DO with them? I would be happy to give them to someone, or to some place. Local library? School? Thrift store?

I have five books illustrated by Ralph Steadman, a collection of Hunter S Thompson, books by Bruce Mau, and Phillipe Stark, and even a book titled “Bruce Springsteen and Philosophy.” I have the screenplay for High Fidelity, The Dirt, Slash, and The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. I have a handful of Tufte’s and Gladwell’s and an odd Bourdain or Friedman. If you looked at the titles and topics I think you could get a pretty good picture of who I am, or who I wanted to be.

And I really want them to have a good home. Maybe its back to that idea of maximizing my investment. I have already paid for the damn things, and have mined them for the nuggets that were of value to me, either in perspective and insight, or just to loose myself for a few hours at a time. Now others should be able to do the same. I just need to find that good next home. And not look back with regret that I have moved on.

Off to go grab another cup of coffee, and take Dragon for a walk. Might even walk him twice today. I am certain he would like that. I know I will.

when I crashed my motorcycle. First off, I have a name. You know how in the movies, when some guy dies, he doesn’t have a name. And in the credits he is listed as “Guy In Car #3″. And nothing was in slow motion and there was no music. So right away I knew that I would be ok. But I also knew that this was gonna hurt. And it did. It was noisy, and it hurt like hell.

So by now those of you who know me know that some douchebag pulled out in front of me on a back road. My dad and I were riding together, and we got split because I was a new rider, and lagged a bit on the previous stop, and left turn. So that left some space in between us. So the guy in the truck pull out in between us, never looking back to his left, and lets me make a choice of either T-boning his truck, or ditching it to the right, off the roadway and into the brush. Which is what I did, or tried to do, but the front tire hopped and almost made it back onto the road.

I laid the bike down on its side, headed over the handlebars and skidded across the pavement. Fast. Loud. And with a thud. The bike was structurally fine, just a lot of cosmetic damage. And I was fine as well, just shaken up, grateful I had on my body armor, even though I didn’t like as cool as Jax Teller in my short sleeves and a cut.

Later I was told that any crash you can walk away from is a good crash. But it sure as hell wasnt like I have seen in the movies, which I guess is a good. Slow motion and a Vangelis soundtrack might make for good cinema, but it sure doesn’t make for good living.