......wonders who is still tuning in.
Well a quick recap since the last post:
I got on telly
Rubbed shoulders with local minor TV celebrities
I got married
We have a home now
We want to get out of the little red dot
But in the meantime, let's see what we can do with what we've got here.......
These are radio control tanks, something I've been having a lot of fun with lately.
I commented that there's a good guy tank and a bad guy tank here, someone asked me which is which? Well, there's an American tank and there's a German tank.
I suppose which is which, depends on which side you're on.
Back in Black
The stuff that I bought lately have had the same common colour scheme - piano black.
LG KS20 PDA Phone
DIY computer (Samsung 22inch LCD, Razer Lycosa backlit keyboard)
HP Mini Note 1000 netbook
Johnnie Walker Black Label (I kid, I kid...)
Super WagolisSo the exhaust pipe that I had ordered months back finally cleared all the required inspections and approvals and got duly fitted onto my car. It hangs dangerously low due to an out-size tip, and now I do not dare to back my car up too far into a lot.
I wonder how long, before I forget, and scratch it up against a curb?
Still, it makes a deliciously racy noise, all strident and businesslike when I rev it. And so, I took the long way home today to get into a tunnel, wound all the windows down, just to dump it into third gear and rev it to 6000rpms just to hear the engine sing. The cars disappeared satisfyingly quickly in the rear view mirror, till a Harley Davidson joined me in the tunnel.
He was there to make himself heard, too, and there was no contest - when the motorbike was done, I almost forgot how my own car sounded like.
As the saying goes, there's always a higher mountain...... I guess I shall be contented with my cheerfully burbling Yaris.
Break and fix, break and fixThings have been falling apart these few weeks.
The car's gearbox started to go, and it sustained some damage to the undercarriage on a trip up north recently.
The air-conditioner's fan unit decided to roll over and die.
The cable telly's snazzy digital box decided to start going on the blink.
The irony was that all these things were under some kind of warranty, or assured service repair/replacement. So calls were made, and parts were ordered. The odd coincidence was that they all got fixed up this week:
Parts for the Yaris's gearbox came in, and it spend 4 days in the workshop. Good as new now, though I am sure they've thrown away all the high-priced Redline gearbox oil I'd put in her. Oh well, maybe that oil wasn't good in the first place.
Called up Panasonic almost screaming bloody murder due to the heat, got the first available service timeslot, identified the fault, jumped on the service staff some more the next day, and I'm now typing in the comfort of a 24-degree environment.
Cable television guy came around, poked at the cable telly unit a bit, decided it was sick, and replaced it with a new one. No charge.
While it is nice that things have been fixed up at no charge, I'm leery of the repair bills I'll have to face when the various warranties expire. Why aren't products even making it past warranty period anymore?
Can I have a lifetime warranty on marriage, just like Mom and Dad have on theirs?
In with the unwashed massesThe parts for my car finally arrived - apparently, despite moving thousands of cars a month, the local distributor doesn't see fit to keep any gearbox parts handy to effect a quick repair on my car (under warranty, may I add).
So Monday I checked the car in. Now, I know from asking around it takes about a day to rebuild a gearbox, but big and well equipped dealership needs four. I've been surviving without car for the past week, simply by the charity of others giving me car rides, public transport, and my feet.
And it happens that a heatwave's hit Singapore and so its been quite a bit of hell trudging around with a Crumpler filled with papers and cameras (because Boss has a penchant of telling me to take photos here and there) in midday heat, because buses don't go where I want them to go.
Yeah yeah, I know, buses have a route to run. I just need to get familiar with their routes.
A 15 minute drive home from work is a full hour by public transport. Perhaps its because I don't work in town, or at any of the concentrations of factory and industry, so a car works for me. It makes sense, and it gives me a wider range. In short it buys me time.
Not having a car's like not having feet. But I did go into town and I was glad I didn't have to worry about parking. In fact, I do drop my car off outside town and bus in on weekends.
Aside from the fact, public transport's pretty much about getting into contact with undesirable people and things and their habits. I, and I am sure you as well, don't want to sit too close to someone who keeps coughing and sneezing and doesn't have the good grace to cover up. Nor do I like the loud music, either from the TVMobile speakers, or from young riffraffs that have punk music blasting from their tinny little mobile phone speakers. I don't want to stand the entire journey. I had to sit through an entire bus ride facing Deal or No Deal. I tried to sleep.
At times, the train carriage is packed so tight that you'd have to collapse into yourself if you want to fall over and hit the ground. Otherwise, you'd probably slam your face into someone's shoulder, or (if you're lucky) boobs.
Speaking of which, though, public transport is a good place to people watch. But me, I prefer to withdraw into my own little metal cocoon, spewing carbon dioxide from my little Yaris, listening to my own music as loud (or soft) as I please, and getting from place to place in the shortest possible time.
One thing though. I can't sleep while driving.
Labels: Car, public transport
UQ St. Lucia to UQ Gatton
Campus for me used to be an 80 kilometre drive, each way. In Singaporean context, 80 kilometres is further than driving from one end of the island to the other, but I did it anyway. I've often justified it by the fact that I liked living closer to the city (of Brisbane), as well as the fact that I lived with relatives. And with the savings I'd made off paying 'family rate' rentals, I managed to afford a budget car with which I had many trips and adventures. But that's for another time and another blog post.
The 80km trip from St. Lucia to Gatton usually took me an hour and ten minutes. On most trips, I'd be gearing up for class, or winding down from class, but subliminally I'd be watching my driving habits - I once managed an amazing 17km/litre (out of a 1989 carburetted car, something fuel-miser Jazz owners would be proud of) and trying to avoid roadkill. Along the way I'd have my handheld GPS propped on the dashboard, which gives me a rough situational awareness (of my speed, estimated time of arrival) and...... I'd be singing.
Yes, singing. I figured I'd have to spend about 3 hours in the car each day I was going to school that I'd better find some way to keep myself awake. I rigged up a tape adapter that fit up to my MP3 player so I'd always have my favourite tunes, and then I'd sing to it.
Now, with no one else in the car, it don't matter if I'm off-key or out of tune, I kept myself awake, I gave my lungs a good work out. Other people do it in the bath, I suppose I prefer to do it in the car, behind the wheel.
So most days, I sang my way to Gatton, and then back to Brisbane at the end of the day. Occasionally there was a traffic jam or two but I was happy in my Corolla Seca. Nowadays, I occasionally sing still, but only when the song's right. But invariably, there's someone else in the car with me, but it still don't matter that I'm off-key or out of tune. She said she's going to teach me to sing properly (I take it to mean that I sing horribly =P) and I'm still waiting for it.
The perfect situation? That I was back in Australia. That I am in my car, it don't even have to be my Yaris. But the company's important - she's got to have to be there with me. Enduring my singing, perhaps singing along with me, but enjoying being together. Me behind the wheel. Wide expanses of space, farmland, and wilderness.
That would be perfect. That is how I would want it to be. Her beside me. Us singing, and driving onward.
