Hong Kong will always have a special place in my heart, because every time I visit this chaotic city, it has been for significant milestone events in my life, and usually with people that I love and cherish.

Every time I come back, I find that I have changed once again as a person, and the life that I was leading when I last visited, always seems so distant and faint as the future ignites before me.

How did it start?

In 1994, when we were 17, we came to HK as the ACJC Dragonboat team to participate in the annual dragonboat races. We not only won the student category, we qualified for the national finals and came in 2nd after the HK Police team (or was it the firemen team?).

We were young, strong, and largely immature about everything we believed we were wise about. I only knew the concept of winning gloriously, but not knowing humility in victory. We would win the race like heroes, but come back and be humiliated by our uncaring teacher-supervisors in front of the school assembly for our youthful mischief and rebelliousness.

But we’ve since forgotten all the unhappiness, because what a time it was, with friends like Derek Cher (God bless his soul), Weizheng, Pok Eu Jin, Ronald, Ben Lim, Naveen, Zhenyao, Jerry, Andrew Lim and Teong and so many others who remain great friends till today.

In 1997 or 1998, a few of the Dragons like Pok, Ronald, Derek and me came up to HK to gallivant after completing our NS stint. I had just become a Christian and was struggling to understand my faith and what I had to do, and I remember having long and serious conversations with Pok and Ronald on theology and humanity, young as we were. Derek, on the other hand, was obsessed with finding a particular shirt from G2000 or Benetton, and we must have visited every outlet in town. We also had long debates on whether to visit Lantau Island, and we never did.

In 2000, I was starting out in photojournalism, bursting with incredible passion for photography. In fit of madness, I told myself that I would stop using the crappy Nikons that SPH made me use, and that I would outfit myself with the best Canon lenses I needed to be successful in my photojournalism career. I did a quick trip to HK, met up with photo.net friends like Bill Akata and Lee Hoyin, and they accompanied me to buy Canon L lenses at Man Shing in Mong Kok.

At that time, Canon L lenses were 20-25% cheaper in HK and the savings paid for the trip. I still own those lenses, but the burning passion was lost somewhere along the way. I since learned not to make a particular passion my whole job, but to leverage on it instead.

In 2004, my boss Ooi Boon nominated me for the Local Journalist award in the Society of Publishers of Asia annual ceremony, and to all our surprise, I actually clinched it for the regional photojournalism work I had done in Vietnam, Thailand, and Singapore. SOPA is based in HK and so I came up to collect my prize in a nice ballroom ceremony along with other SPH journalists.

I was halfway through my SPH scholarship stint and this win was a huge encouragement to continue investing in a media career, but deep in my heart, I knew I didn’t really want to be a journalist in the long term. I struggled with this until 2007 when I finally left SPH and found greater happiness in Microsoft.

What was really great about this particular trip was that I listened to Faye Wong day and night, and fell in love with her music, albeit a decade too late (she was semi-retired by then).

I can’t place the exact date, but it was also around this period that I brought Goy to HK to go on a big foodie tour, and we had this ridiculously expensive crab that was so not worth the money (or wait for the dish to arrive). There were other agendas on our mind as well  

And after a hiatus of about 5 years, I’m back in Hong Kong again with my Microsoft team for our annual kickoff. Here, I learned of the new role I have at work – I’m going to focus on driving the PC peripherals business in Singapore, a great development opportunity after having done marcoms and PR in the region for the past 3 years.

What made the trip really fun was some of the spare time spent walking around Mongkok with my room mate David Tse, who shares my love for toys, gadgets and our focus on our families. And of course, all the great friends I’ve made within our SEA and Korea team are here too.

I can tell you it’s hard to find so many capable, experienced and good-natured people in the same room, and for that I give thanks.

I may not stay in Hong Kong, but as I look back on the past 16 years, HK has uniquely marked how I’ve changed in my outlook on life and work, on eternity and God. Like how a parent would mark the height of his child on a wall, HK has marked how my life has shifted like tectonic plates. 

But some things never change – the wanton mee is always so fresh, and I always make a pilgrimage to Victoria’s Peak and relive those days of 1994 when we were so young and free of worldly worries.

We were AC Dragons and we would win the biggest race of our lives, only to learn later that it was far easier than everything else that was to come.

Below: Other pictures I took with my trusty Oly Pen during a morning solitary walk on 14 July 2010. As a photojournalist, I used to enjoy long solitary walks with my camera bag. Now older, wiser, and in better mastery of my craft, I steadfastly follow the Zen of photography and take pictures only when the scene calls for it.

Related posts:

1. King Kong
2. Chapter 4: Life’s really a game of chess

I had an interesting online conversation with a journo today who’s thinking of finding a new job but believes he is “mono-skilled”. That causes him to believe that it’s hard for him to write his CV, or find interested recruiters.

Thankfully, that’s not true at all, even as many journos continue to subscribe to that belief. Those who don’t, have obviously moved on to other fields (and sometimes returned to editorial when they realized where their heart lay).

Now as my friends will know, I’ve been encouraging journos to try other jobs even when I was still a journo at SPH. I still do, not because I want the newspaper to lose good people, but because I think everyone deserves a chance to check out the world for him/herself. How do you know journalism is the perfect job for you until you’ve tried other jobs?

It’s an irony you know – scribes who write about everything under the sun, are often themselves not exposed to every other thing under the sun when it comes to a career.

It doesn’t help when I know there are some editors who having failed or been unhappy at other jobs in the past, try to convince young journos that journalism is truly the best career on earth.

Seriously, it’s not for everyone lah. There are journalists, and there is everyone else.

Now back to my point about being mono-skilled, or “I only know how to write, so how?”

I’ve often told fellow journos that they’re fools if they think being able to write is their only marketable asset. Their real strengths lie in several areas (and I’m referring to good journos here, others need not apply)

• Listening and collecting vast amounts of data in a resourceful manner
• Analysing the data from different points of view
• Solving or find possible solutions to difficult problems objectively.
• Verbalizing the above in a simple manner that many people can understand and apply their thoughts to.
• Realizing all the above in a ridiculously short period of time (aka Deadline)

You know, the skills above are what most people outside of journalism use as well. 

Whether you’re a financial analyst, a florist, a cook or a CEO, how you use the above skills in varying degrees determine how far you go in life.

(I exclude Acts Of God here).

So to clarify, I think there are two types of skills we need to think about. I have my own definitions here:

Technical skills developed over time – aka writing, violin, cooking, photography, gardening, financial analysis, selling services and so on. You can pick up these skills anytime via courses or books or apprenticeship. Many people are technically mono-skilled, some are dual-skilled, and very few are good at several technical skills.

Soft skills that enhance the technical skills that allows one to work in different scenarios – data collection and analysis, team co-ord and management, and clear communication. Sometimes, being able to bullshit is an important soft skill too. You can’t learn any of these soft skills in formal courses, but they’re developed over time either by circumstances, trial and error, mentorship or self-observation. Sometimes, they’re nothing more than “social skills” or inter-personal skills.

I’d like to think that everyone has a mix of technical skills and soft skills. The question is how we develop both “skill trees” to meet our desires?

For example, let’s take my own career path. I consider my real technical skill to be photography, not writing or marketing as most people would believe it to be. Yet when I quit photography 2003, I let my photography skills languish at a certain level and never worked on it again. It’s a pity to some, but I decided it was not my path and turned it back into a hobby instead.

I’m reasonably proficient at writing and that’s seen me through my SPH editorial career and the early phase of my Microsoft career. However, under the guidance of my boss Ben in MS, I’ve come to appreciate it’s the soft skills that truly open up different career options in one’s life, especially within the same company.

It’s how one earns the trust, the respect and the support of others that allows one to bust the limits of their technical skill and allow one to grasp new challenges and overcome them.

Yet I still continue to develop new technical skills – like learning how to manage spreadsheets and long rows of numbers, how to organize big-scale events and so on. PR was one technical skill I didn’t spend too long learning though – I simply thought to myself how I disliked the actions of lousy PR people when I was in the media, avoided their mistakes, and repeated methods of the ones I liked.

I sometimes lament to my friends – I’m a turning into Jack of All Trades, and Master Of None. But then I think to myself – do I really want to be known for doing one thing really well? What if I were a photographer and digicams got so smart they made me uncompetitive in the market? (Never say never). What else could I fall back on? What did I not try out when I had the energy and the passion to?

That’s also one of the reasons why I pursue so many hobbies – I want to know, can I be good at that one other thing? When I was young, I couldn’t afford these hobbies, but now that I can, why deny myself?

I don’t need to be great at it, but I want to enjoy being good at the violin, graphic design, hobby kits, building PCs, riding a motorbike and so on. I take pleasure at trying and getting good at new things, instead of trying to be Number One at everything like my Gahmen often tells me to.

Now I digress, as usual.

People who insist on thinking they can do only one thing well, are condemned to doing that one thing well, both by their own mindset and how others perceive them. It’s easy to fall into that thinking as a media guy (journos and PR peeps included) because that’s how media companies often measure your worth.

But if you see yourself as being good at more than just your technical skill, you’d be surprised at the options that suddenly pop up in front of you.

So really, it’s okay to be mono-skilled, but that never stopped anyone.

Related posts:

1. A Decade’s Work – Part IV
2. The state of the PR industry
3. Being media-savvy

Do read Ebert’s loving tribute to his dad here. I wish I could write a similar piece for my late mum, but I think it’ll be many, many years before I can muster the strength and bravery to do it.

An excerpt:

Until the day he died, I always called him "Daddy." He was Walter Harry Ebert, born in Urbana in 1902 of parents who had immigrated from Germany. His father, Joseph, was a machinist working for the Peoria & Eastern Railway, known as the Big Four. Daddy would take me out to the Roundhouse on the north side of town to watch the big turntables turning steam engines around. In our kitchen, he always used a knife "your grandfather made from a single piece of steel."

Related posts:

1. A literary tribute to Doraemon
2. Hope prevails

Singaporeans have been grumbling online about the $50,000 that the Singapore government contributed to the Haiti relief efforts. I first found out about the grumbling from Mr Brown’s site.

What surprised me was that the Straits Times’ Political Desk actually put forth a commentary last Saturday to point out that the Gahmen should have given more. (No link, sorry, ST still believes in locking up its content to non-subscribers)

What didn’t surprise me was the quick reaction from the Gahmen’s PR folks. The letter was published today (which meant some poor person had to work on it and get it approved over the weekend). I have very mixed feelings about it, but you should read it first:

Disaster relief – the S’pore way

I REFER to last Saturday’s commentary, ‘Is Singapore doing too little for Haiti?’ by Ms Chua Mui Hoong. She criticised the Singapore Government for not making a bigger contribution to Haiti after the earthquake when we had contributed far more to disaster relief and humanitarian assistance efforts after the 2004 tsunami, the 2005 Pakistan earthquake and the 2008 Sichuan earthquake.

As a responsible member of the international community, the Singapore Government has consistently made contributions to international humanitarian assistance and disaster relief efforts in our region and beyond. Singaporeans are familiar with the contributions we have made over the years, especially to the many countries hit by the tsunami in 2004, and after the Sichuan earthquake.

Last year, we provided humanitarian assistance in the form of cash, supplies and equipment after Typhoon Morakot in Taiwan; Cyclone Aila in Bhutan; Typhoon Ketsana in the Philippines, Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia; the Padang earthquake in Indonesia; the cyclone in Fiji; the earthquake and tsunami in Samoa and Tonga; as well as for victims of the civil war in Sri Lanka; and food aid for internally displaced people in Pakistan.

As a responsible government, we have to examine the considerations and priorities when deciding how much and what type of assistance Singapore can provide after each disaster. Singapore is not in the league of major donor countries, nor do we aspire to be one. Among other things, we have to consider the nature of our relations with the affected country and whether we can provide aid which will add value to the relief efforts when deciding what to contribute, as we have limited resources and cannot respond to every disaster in the same way.

Hence, we had responded with more significant contributions when Indonesia suffered the devastation of the tsunami and various earthquakes – because it is a neighbour with longstanding and close ties and we were in the position to deploy our military and civil defence assets so that they could carry out effective missions.

The amount or type of humanitarian assistance given by the Singapore Government is not intended to match the scale of a disaster. In the case of massive disasters in countries beyond our own region, our contributions often cannot be more than a show of moral support and a gesture of sympathy to the affected country.

The support from Singapore for Haiti need not be demonstrated just by the Government. Singaporeans who want to make a contribution can do so through the Red Cross and other groups, and indeed many have. The Singaporeans who have gone to Haiti on relief missions amply demonstrate their compassion for the victims of the earthquake.

Sudesh Maniar
Director, Public Affairs
Ministry of Foreign Affairs

I didn’t have an issue with the writer’s general reasoning. I mean, this is what Singapore is all about – being pragmatic.

Haiti has weak links with Singapore, both by geography and economy. They are one of the world’s poorest nations, there’s little they can do to help increase our GDP numbers. As a true-blue Singaporean myself, bred on the idea of Returns On Investment and Meritocracy, I can buy into the logic by the MFA.

Why would I help someone whom I hardly know and can hardly help me in any way?

My feelings changed when I hit the last paragraph. Logically, the MFA is right here too. If you think Haiti is worth helping, please go ahead because there are other relief agencies you can turn to.

But what does it imply when you write a paragraph like that? It implies that the Gahmen has no compassion for a stranger, because it’s relying on its people to have it instead.

This flies in the face of what the Gahmen keeps telling us :”Singapore needs to be a gracious society.” We are accused, rightly so, of being unkind to strangers, having little respect for our elders on public transport, not giving way on the roads, etc etc.

Why, because in Singapore, it is often each individual for him or herself. Our pragmatic approach to life demands that we do not bother with people who don’t qualify for our help. And what does it take to qualify for our aid?

Now I can think of a dozen things that we don’t need to spend public money on to help locals or overseas people in DESPERATE need.

Ostentious National Day Parades, overwrought drama serials like Little Nonya (oh you didn’t know you funded it with your tax dollars?), Christmas decorations along Orchard Road that serve to drive the materialistic spirit and so on. Each cost a huge chunk of taxpayer’s money.

(Others might harp on the massive losses made by investment arms such as GIC or Temasek Holdings, but all investments are risk-laden so I never go nuts about that issue.)

To my Gahmen, I respect you for your principles and hard-nosed approach to economics and caring for your people. We have a safe country and sound economy thanks to several decades of pragmatism. We’re all moulded in your image too.

But leaders of the state, I suggest that we also need a moral and ethical compass for our people and our children. We parents can do it at home in a family unit, not a problem.

Yet what kind of message are you sending out when you witness the terrifying humanitarian disaster with your own eyes, and you, who have the collective power to do so thanks to your population, offer a small token sum in return? What do I tell my children about a government that is rich in wealth but not so wealthy in spirit?

So if we really want to be pragmatic, here’s the way to do it:

If you do not think Haiti will benefit significantly from any amount you can contribute, don’t contribute anything at all. That falls in line with the pragmatic formula we all know so well.

If you think these people could do with some help, look at the bigger picture and give something more significant. Why, if it means raising ERP rates for a day, I’d gladly drive through more gantries to do my bit for a suffering people. We have effective means of raising money in this country by automated means, but we’ve never activated them for a worthy cause.

So ok, my pragmatic heart says….perhaps not for Haiti, since like it has been said, we are so detached from it. But how about doing this the next time it happens to our neighbours? When was the last time you saw this government leading a national effort to be gracious and generous on a big scale? Yes, we help our own people first – the local charity drives and funding is all good. We help our immediate neighbours – great. Now do we have anything left for someone we’re not so familiar with?

If the people and even the (usually supportive) local media speak up against your token contribution, take time to ask yourself why we ask such questions of you, rather than rush out a reply in the media over the weekend to try to kill the conversation thread.

(Unfortunately, MFA, you’ve just fanned the fire)

I’m not asking the Gahmen to follow the crowd and not be careful with our money. I’m asking it to have a bit of compassion when people are looking to it to lead by example and be more receptive to people’s feedback on such grey matters.

Being gracious means to be kind and generous to all, and we’ll take less time to be a gracious society when our leaders can exhibit this trait on a consistent and visible basis.

We desire to be a hub for everything from biosciences to finance, so how about considering being a hub for graciousness? It will do far more wonders for our society and our international reputation than you can possibly imagine.

Here’s Mr Brown’s post on the same matter. Same sentiments all round, I guess.

Related posts:

1. Pat Robertson needs to keep quiet
2. Paying The Price With No Regrets
3. Weird lor.

 Real artists painting over the “vandalized” postboxes. Picture from ST.

Looks like SingPost did a nice turnaround by getting real (ie. talented) artists to paint over the “vandalized” postboxes (actually I should remove the apostrophes as I do consider the postboxes vandalized).

From what the press says, this repaint is being managed by a different agency from the original that organized the “vandalism”. From ST 10 Jan:

The artists were picked by Farm, a local arts collective that is organising Stamp 02.

In 2007, Farm had also worked with SingPost to launch the first Stamp competition, which saw 40 post boxes transformed into different scenes of Singapore.

I’ve often complained that many locals aren’t as appreciative of good art as they should be. But this episode has taught me that at least, they know how to reject bad art.

***

A SingPost postbox that was vandalised as part of their marketing. Photo from Stomp. 

A good commentary in Today newspaper today on the SingPost PR fiasco:

TO SOME in the marketing industry, any publicity – good or bad – is still publicity. It’s an adage the brains behind the botched SingPost "Express Yourself" campaign may want to seek some comfort in following the public furore over the campaign which saw six mailboxes all over Singapore being vandalised.

But for their client, SingPost, the gimmick has been nothing but a public relations disaster.

What was to have been a press conference on Wednesday to announce SingPost’s sponsorship for the 2010 Youth Olympic Games saw the company going on the defensive. It had to take hard questions from the media:

Did it know about the vandalism gimmick, did it approve the marketing strategy, did it even consider the public alarm the vandal may trigger by his actions?

In the end, SingPost issued a public apology and the police – which had to look into a few 999 calls as a result of the stunt – have said they will be taking up the matter with SingPost.

Read the rest of the commentary here.

In the first place, the whole marketing gimmick didn’t seem to me as very creative.

A lot of people seem to mix up creativity with rubbish. In marketing, being creative doesn’t mean that you lose sight of the main message you are trying to send out.

In SingPost’s case, what message was being sent here? Who on earth knew that this was related to the Youth Olympic Games?

And why is “creativity” being associated with the YOG? The YOG is a sporting meet – it’s about a group of young athletes coming together to compete aggressively to become number one in their respective fields. It’s not about putting on a show to demonstrate how different they are, but how similar they are in their desire to win.

Real creativity means turning ideas on their heads while making sure people understand your real message in the process. It requires marketers to think about the thinking process – how will people process the information and not get the wrong idea?

There are also marketing agencies that come to clients to pitch big and grand ideas, but guess what, some of them are not really interested in your business or your message. They’re often out to make a name for themselves and add your brand to their portfolio of gimmicky stunts.

I remember many years ago, there was this MRT poster that went something like “By the time you finish reading this poster in the next 10 seconds, something would have changed.” A classmate said she actually stood in front of the poster for 10 seconds and wondered what would happen. I think the poster was trying to highlight the nature of time and how efficient the MRT system was (or something like that lah). But the message didn’t sink in fully with at least one person and thus it wasn’t a good ad.

That’s why good marketers are hard to find. There are many who think marketing is just about spending the budget to put out big flashy advertisements or public gimmicks, and unfortunately, there are many marketers who prove that stereotype right.

That’s why in bad times, marketers are often laid off before accountants and HR folks who are deemed to be doing more tangible work.

This fiasco also sheds some light on something most people don’t want to talk about  – marketing and PR are intrinsically tied together, though industry professionals try to separate them due to the different materials and approaches used.

A good marketer will understand how to manage the media coverage of such a gimmick, and a good PR guy will understand when such a gimmick is going to drag down the company’s name. But I know in many companies, PR and marketing folks don’t talk to each other very much. I guess it helps my team is so lean, I happen to do both together, so if anything goes wrong, you only need to crucify one bald guy.

Still, kudos to SingPost for doing the right thing and apologising for its mistake. Better to admit you’re wrong than insist it was a spark of brilliance that was misunderstood by the masses.

Next time, hire a better marketing agency and perhaps, better graffiti artists. The artwork on the postboxes was really low quality, I’ve seen better at canals and slums.

Related posts:

1. Do not pay to learn about social media!
2. The day I met JBJ
3. Why I can’t blog about work

Some of you might remember Darren’s story which I wrote the night after he got married in Sep 2006. When I was a journo I asked Darren if I could write the newspaper story on him, but he was too shy. He’s not so shy now, and my dear ex-colleague Wan Ching finally did the deed a few days ago for The New Paper. I’ve reproduced her article here and it relates in greater detail what happened that fateful night and how he’s progressed since his marriage. Praise the Lord.

“I REFUSE TO BE DISABLED”

Helpless and with half his skull lost after a severe stroke, comeback doc wants to inspire others

REPORT: NG WAN CHING

wanching@sph.com.sg

IT HAD been his lifelong dream to be a doctor. He graduated top of his cohort in his junior college and worked hard in medical school to realise his dream.

After five years, he graduated from medi­cal school and was ready to start houseman-ship as an intern.

Then a massive stroke hit him – and killed his dreams. Dr Darren Chua was just 24 years old then.

But Dr Chua, now 33, is not one to look back on life with regrets.

Today, he is forging ahead with a new venture, an education centre, to help stu­dents achieve their best.

A few months after his stroke, he had thought he could be back at work within a year.

“Later I found out it was not very realistic,” he said in an interview with The New Paper.

The stroke, which hit him on 28 Apr 2000, had sent blood gushing into his brain at such a furious rate that his brain shifted position.

“It moved to the right to make room for the blood,” said Dr Chua.

The pressure building up in his head could have caused irreparable brain damage. So doctors removed a part of his skull to relieve the pressure. It made him look like Robocop, in the movie about a super-human cyborg who had part of his skull removed too, he said.

Friends who visited said the same thing, when they noticed that one quarter of my head was missing,” he said with a laugh. His missing skull was put back on his head only six months later. By then, he knew he was not going to get back to work any time soon. The right side of his body was affected by the stroke.

Difficulties

It took him a long time to learn to walk again.

He has learnt to write with his left hand as his right hand is still feeling “tight” as a result of the stroke.

He had already taken his medical degree, from National University of Singapore, when he had the stroke.

“Hence, in a way, I have obtained what I wanted,” he said.

But he could not practise as a doctor as he had not undergone the one-year houseman-ship which was supposed to start a few days later.

On the day of his stroke, he had been home alone in the afternoon.

He was at the computer and preparing for emcee duties for the medical students’ gradu­ation party that evening.

“My entire right visual field suddenly blacked out,” he said. Disorientation quickly followed. He lay down, hoping the symptoms would subside.

“I managed to navigate myself to my bed and that was when the headaches started,” he said.

The pounding was gradual but relentless. He started experiencing weakness over the entire right-side of his body and had difficulty completing sentences.

He called his then girlfriend, who called for an ambulance. By the time the ambulance arrived, he was immobile.

He passed out during the trip to the Na­tional University Hospital.

“I have always been asked, ‘Did you know you were having a stroke?’ My answer is no.

“At that point, I was just more interested in holding myself together and not breaking down,” he said.

Learning to walk, talk

He regained consciousness two to three weeks later but was unable to speak or walk.

He found out later from his parents that doctors had told them they could not commit to how much recovery he could achieve.

Said Dr Timothy Lee, Gleneagles Hospital consultant neurosurgeon, who operated on him at NUH: “He almost died. He had a huge blood clot.”

Dr Chua’s stroke was caused by a ruptured arteriovenous malformation in his left brain. (See infobar, above.)

He stayed in NUH for two months and spent another two months at Ang Mo Kio Community Hospital.

He went back to full-time work 2½ years later as a health administrator for the Nation­al Healthcare Group and stayed for two years.

By then he could walk, albeit with a limp.

Then he was offered a research scholar­ship to pursue a Masters in Science at the Yong Loo Lin School of Medicine.

“The decision to accept was not easy. In 2005, the aftermath of the stroke was still very much on my body. My right side was physical­ly weaker and I still could not see in my right visual field.

“The only thing that was going for me then was that my mental skills were very much unharmed,” he said.

Challenging himself

As a challenge to himself, he took on the two-year research programme.

It was also during this period that he got married. (See report, above right.)

After that, he had a one-year stint with SingHealth, before leaving to open Potter’s Clay Education in Parkway Centre in Marine Parade in June this year.

He said: “If there is one thing I have drawn from these experiences, it is that persistence rules. No matter how many times I fell in the hospital, I always willed myself up because I refused to be in a wheelchair.

“No matter how many times I spelt or pronounced a word wrongly, I would attempt it again.”

He would not be treated as a disabled person.

Slowly he saw improvements. What start­ed as a 40-minute walk from Suntec City Convention Centre to Tower 4, can now be done in eight to 10 minutes.

He continues to clock better times, though he still walks with a limp. He is now devoting his time to teaching because he has a passion for it.

And he is telling his story because he wants to motivate students.

“Even when you feel that life is against you, never ever give up,” he said.

SIDEBAR 1: From intrigue to respect to love

SHE says that despite his stroke, he is the man she has always wanted.

He says that she is a fantastic and supportive wife.

Mrs X Chua, 31, who is too shy to reveal her full name, said she and Dr Darren Chua, 33, met at a pub in 2002.

“I was there for work. The pub owner was my client and I was helping him with employee benefits,” said the former financial advisor. She saw Dr Chua drinking and his hand was shaking badly. “The thought popped into my head that he might be suffering from hyperthyroidism, because I had it too,” she said.

Hyperthyroidism is a condition where excessive thyroid hormones overstimulates metabolism, causing “speeding up” of various body systems and symptoms, resembling an overdose of adrenaline.

She asked him if he might have hyperthyroidism and didn’t know it.

“He said he didn’t have hyperthyroidism. He had a stroke. I asked him if he had seen a doctor and he said, ‘I am a doctor’”.

They did not meet again until two years later.

This was at another pub. Again, she was working and he was drinking with friends. Said Mrs Chua: “I think he was a little tipsy. He asked me out by asking whether he could come to church with me.

“Obviously when people ask if they can come to church with you, you don’t say no, right?” Things progressed steadily from there and in 2006 they got married.

“I started by being intrigued by him, then I was inspired by him and I grew to respect him for what he has gone through,” said Mrs Chua, who is now helping Dr Chua with his education venture.

The couple plan to start trying for children next year.

SIDEBAR 2: About AVM

THEY are defects of the blood circulatory system that are generally believed to be congenital. Arteriovenous malformations (AVMs) are made up of tangled arteries and veins. In Singapore, it is estimated to affect one in 100,000 people, although Associate Professor Ivan Ng, head of the neurosurgery department at the National Neuroscience Institute, suspects that figure might be higher.

Most patients do not know that they have an AVM. Some patients with AVMs have seizures or persistent headaches. An AVM can put additional strain on the blood vessels and the surrounding tissues. The strain on the blood vessels can weaken them and cause a rupture. This is known as a haemorrhage or a bleed. If an AVM bleeds, the patient experiences a very severe headache. The bleed may cause a stroke and even death.

Related posts:

1. Darren’s Story
2. So many sides of the story
3. The Real Mee Pok Man

In the army, I earned several nicknames. “King Kong” for being beefy right out of dragonboat training the year before. “Lt. Smallbutt” for having a skinny derriere under the King Kong torso. And “Complain King”, a less glamorous, but probably more apt nick for me.

Now I’m not making any excuses for being a guy who likes to point out what’s wrong with stuff. I only do so because I think something could be better, and not simply because I like to criticize and make myself feel better about myself. I’m sure you’ve met other people who feel a need to criticize simply as an ego booster.

I believe my penchant for pointing out issues is somewhat genetic too, as my mum was like that, and my daughter takes every opportunity to pour out her woes over the smallest things.

Is being critical a good thing though? Like many things in life, the answer is : “It depends”.

The bigger challenge comes when you become a critic as part of your job scope.

From 2003 to 2007, I had the opportunity to do tech journalism and along came the chance to review almost any consumer gadget on the market. To many guys, this is a dream job, and I must admit it was pretty spiffy. All the toys in the world and you could not only test them out, you could have an opinion on them and actually tell the world about it!

What a great way to become an “opinion leader”! Or more commonly known today as an “influencer”.

Well, reality soon came crashing down when I had to review terrible products.

There was this MP3 player made by a European MNC, and try as they might (even today, for the record), they couldn’t design a player that was suited for consumers’ needs. It was obviously the brainchild of some graphic designer or engineer, created to suit their bosses’ demands and not the market. It baffles me why they continue to create products that nobody would buy.

In my review of this product, I wrote something along the lines that “this product has amnesia. Whenever you switch it on, it forgets the last song that was played previously and always jumps back to the first song in the playlist.”.

Almost immediately after the article was published, the vendor sent angry emails to our ad sales department who in turn gave the feedback to my boss.

They were upset that I had not only pointed out a “minor flaw” in their new product, I had decided to personify it and give it a dreaded human condition.

To his credit, my editor gave a really balanced rebuff to the advertiser: “This is just one review and there are many publications out there. Why not give the product to other publications to review and see what they think about it? Don’t let one review from us be the final word.”

Honestly, I don’t know if they took his advice.

Then there was another series of poorly designed handphones that was slammed by my colleague in another article and what we heard later was that the resellers refused to carry the product as a result. Oh the power of print media! 

Now at that time, I thought that we were doing the right thing.

After all, is it not the right of the media to give an objective opinion on all things, be it an event or product? From our perspective, it was the moral high ground and we were happy to stand on it. It felt good to pass judgement, even on an unfeeling piece of plastic and wires.

But after a few more run-ins with advertisers, I found that we were on the verge of pissing off every vendor in town and endangering our fledgling tech section. Who would pass you the latest gadgets for review if they feared being scrutinized “objectively”?

Of course, I refused to go down the route of many publications, which will give you coverage, or even a favorable review if you were constantly advertising with them.

There was one publication that gave out so many Gold and Platinum awards, these accolades become worthless like WWII banana notes after several years, when every vendor realized they were getting the same plaques. As if they didn’t see that coming.

I can understand the need for these publications to placate advertisers and secure revenue, but because they ran their publications like a business, they gave little emphasis for the credibility that good journalism desperately needs. So even though they had earnest writers in their ranks who wrote objective pieces, there wasn’t much respect to be earned.

That’s why today, you don’t see many talented people aspiring to be technology writers – the money isn’t fantastic and you’re often caught between the advertiser and your ad sales people.

But back to my problem at my tech section.

I hit upon a simple solution, and it was workable only because we didn’t have many pages for tech each week.

Simply review only the good products, and return any crap gadgets to the vendor.

Naturally this thrilled the ad sales department and the advertisers. The revenue for special tech projects soon came rolling in and all was good. But internally, I wasn’t that happy because my tech section was too “feel-good”, and all cynical journos know that it’s bad news that sells (sadly).

Nevertheless, I let it be because this was the path of least destruction for all parties involved.

But even then, by the end of 2007 when I left journalism, it dawned upon me that I really wasn’t fit to be a product reviewer. And upon joining Microsoft to do PR for the same products I used to critique, the message really hit home.

Anton Ego’s quote

This turnaround happened when I watched the wonderful, if somewhat draggy, Pixar animated movie called Ratatouille.

In the final climatic scene, both human and rodent protagonists had to prove their culinary worth to the world’s toughest food critic, a sour old man called Anton Ego. Their cover was blown and Anton was stunned to find out the food he had swooned over was actually dished out by a pantry of rats.

Everyone thought Anton was about to tell the world the truth, but instead, he wrote an editorial that attacked his very position as a critic:

“In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face is that, in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new.” 

When I heard these lines for the first time, my heart sank.

The moral high ground that I had undertaken upon myself as a critic was nothing more than petty self-justification.

As someone who had no stake in the creation, marketing or distribution of the product, who was I to judge whether a product was great or rubbish? How could I bear the pain of a product manager who just saw his product die on the shelves just because of a few snarky paragraphs?

Yes, as a consumer, I have all the rights to judge a product before I buy it, but what does a journalist know about bringing a product to market amid intense competition? What gives him the right to evaluate a product for the masses?

And when I joined Microsoft as a PR guy, I saw for myself how it easy it was for the media or consumers to criticize your products and services, regardless of how much work we might have put into improving or marketing them.

But having come from the other side of the fence and remembering the words of Anton Ego, I never took offence whenever we had a negative media review, unless it was based on unsound facts (which was rare, thankfully).

So today, I read all reviews (products, movies, food etc) with a mixed cocktail of feelings.

Does this writer have the necessary experience to evaluate this product? Is he aware of the context of how the product was produced? Why should I believe his review? Is he or the editorial impacted by advertising pressures? What does he really think of the product?

It gets to the point where I no longer enjoy reading reviews, because I often spend too much time pondering on the actual value of the writing.

There are too many reviewers today, both offline and online, who want to prove their worth to any reader. Many bloggers seem to think that writing a preview or review of something is enough to earn them stature in the online world (but that’s another chapter).

This doesn’t mean all reviews are not worth reading, because there are does who review stuff with absolute passion and credibility.

There’s Makansutra founder KF Seetoh, whose love for great food bubbles out of every pore. There’s Edge Magazine from UK, the absolute last word in all gaming reviews. There’s Chris Tan from ST who does some of the best motoring articles in the region (I got to meet him recently and asked him what his favorite car was. He said “None.”)

I haven’t lost my faith in reviews, but I don’t think I can ever write one again. At least for a living.

Related posts:

1. Reservist is so fun
2. Tough review
3. A Decade’s Work – Part V

As my faithful readers would know, I’ve been a big fan of the Olympus E-P1 Pen camera since it was first released in Singapore early last month. It’s an amazing camera for what it is, and for its target market (which most people will never figure out, and more on that later.) Never mind that I’ve been promoting Canon gear for the last decade, one can always love more than one brand of camera. I still use my Canons whenever I need absolute quality though (eg. morning landscapes or portraits of my kids). 

Now I’ve been reading an endless stream of online reviews or articles that not only praise the Pen, but keep bringing up two missing hardware features as huge downsides or even deal-breakers.

Namely, the lack of an optical viewfinder and an in-built flash. And just about everyone whines about the slow autofocus using the kit zoom lens.

Let me just grab a few quick quotes for you…

The Olympus E-P1 is an otherwise excellent enthusiast compact camera hampered by some performance problems and the lack of a viewfinder and built-in flash. – CNET

In summary the Olympus E-P1 is a refreshingly different, easy to use, fairly compact camera with the obvious advantages of interchangeable lenses and a DSLR sensor. The main negatives are the lack of a built-in flash and optical viewfinder, plus the slow auto-focus system. – PhotographyBlog.com

You were so dazzled, for example, that you didn’t notice at first that there’s no flash. No flash?

“Oh, come on, you don’t need a flash,” the camera seems to say. “You have my gigantic sensor! Use natural light! Besides, if you’re such a wuss, you can always buy the optional $200 external flash.” You murmur, “Yes, dear.” But in your head, you’re bummed about the hassle of packing and attaching another piece of equipment. Wasn’t the E-P1’s slender, svelte body part of the initial attraction?

You also suspect you’ll miss the convenience of a quick fill flash when your subject’s face is in shadow. Maybe you decide you can live with that — but then you realize there’s no optical viewfinder to peer through, either. You have to frame your shots using the 3-inch screen. And it’s not a great screen, at that. It’s hard to see in sunlight.

“Viewfinder, schmiewfinder,” the camera chides you. “If it makes you happy to hold something up to your eye, buy the snap-on external viewfinder for $100!” Now you’re getting annoyed. The snap-on viewfinder is just a piece of glass. It doesn’t show any status indicators, and your view doesn’t change as you zoom or adjust focus. You may as well make an O with your fingers and peer through that. – New York Times

If you read all this from an editorial point of view, whose target market is the everyday consumer who’s looking to blow some cash on a new gadget, yes, their points are absolutely valid. If you are looking for an all-in-one camera, the Pen does come across as missing a few vital organs.

But does somebody realize that the Pen was not really created for the Average Joe?

It was created for photographers who know what they’re shooting, not people who just want a nice camera that makes them look like real photographers. It’s all very elitist-sounding, yes, but I speak for my brethren who used to, or continue to make a decent living out of photography, and we are a rather small population.

(Also, let me populate this post with some of my latest Pen photos just for fun.)

Is this picture worth the price of the Pen? Only if you keep getting the same great results, which I do, and it’s only because I force the camera to take what I want, not the other way around.

The Unholy Price Tag

A big hint is the price tag – SGD$1,400 for the Pen with a 17mm pancake lens. That’s awfully expensive ain’t it? You could buy an entry-level SLR and have money leftover for an additional lens at that price!

If you just had that thought, this camera is not for you.

No Viewfinder

It doesn’t have a viewfinder! How can you compare it to dSLRs when it has no viewfinder? I can’t see the LCD screen in broad daylight, especially during lunch time!

Here’s what I know about viewfinders:

1. If you put in an optical viewfinder, you’ll need a through-the-lens system which would bring the Pen back to the size of a normal dSLR.
2. If you put in an electronic viewfinder (ie. a very small LCD screen that you peek into), you’ll realize how much they suck since it’s not an optical viewfinder.

And if you’re shooting people under a noon sun, you need to know that that’s the worst possible time to take anyone’s photo outside of the shade. People squint, the shadows cast are unflattering and generally people look less happy than if they’re in the shade.

Despite all that, I’ve not had a problem nailing exposures using the offending LCD. Any photographer worth his salt will be able to compensate for the lower brightness of the screen and adjust the manual exposure properly on screen to ensure that there are no overblown highlights or massive shadows.

If you desperately need a viewfinder, yes, this camera is not for you. But yes, the viewfinder could be brighter in the day.

No In-built Flash

This is something I’m personally ambivalent about, but seems to drive other people crazy. I personally don’t use the in-build flash on any camera very much, because it produces deer-in-the-headlight kind of photos and I’d never frame up those kind of shots. If I do use a flash, it’ll be with an external flash unit that can swivel and bounce light off the ceiling or walls for more natural looking shots.

The Pen with the FL-14 flash accessory. Buy the camera, but avoid the expensive flash like the plague. 

And here’s a real stinker – I bought the cute silver SGD$250 FL-14 flash accessory for the Pen, and it’s downright horrible. Bet you didn’t read that in any review.

50% of the time, it blasts out the wrong flash exposure and my shots are either terribly over- or under-exposed. Yes, by writing this, I’d guarantee that I’ll never be able to sell that awful product off to some sucker but this is for the greater good.

You’ll probably be better off with a third party flash like the Metz but then, wouldn’t it make your Pen too heavy?

If you need a flash…oh you get the message by now.

Slow Autofocus

This is the general complaint that really annoys me.

Here’s the CNET technical assessment as an example:

Unfortunately, the E-P1′s performance, which seems to suffer from a sluggish AF system, cries out for a firmware upgrade. It powers on and shoots in about 2.2 seconds, a reasonable duration. But on CNET’s performance tests, shot lag (the time it takes to focus and shoot) with the kit lens in good light runs about 1.3 seconds and rises to 1.6 seconds in dim light.

The Pen not only works faster with the 17mm pancake fixed lens (affixed in picture above) over the zoom lens, it looks a lot prettier too. 

Now I think Oly made a massive mistake globally by passing review units with the zoom lens affixed to mainstream press reviewers. Even before the product was available, I knew it would be a waste of time getting the zoom lens over the fixed pancake lens. The slow aperture of the kit zoom ensures poor intake of light and AF speed is often a factor of how much light the camera is taking in. Naturally, everyone would review the zoom lens kit as being slow and sluggish.

With the 17mm lens, I find the focus speed to be more than acceptable and on par with the best digicam on the market today – the Panasonic LX-3. Yes, it could be more accurate (there’s some backfocusing with the Pen), but even top SLRs can suffer from backfocusing.

And the Pen is obviously not fast enough to take many action shots without pre-focusing. It’s not marketed as an action camera either, folks.

But egads, you mean one should shoot without a zoom lens? But every digicam today has some sort of zoom! How do you expect me to zoom in on a scene without a zoom lens?

Sorry, this camera really isn’t for you.

So who on earth is the Pen really for?

Good question, glad you made it to this portion.

One target market is obviously women who love pretty products, but they’d be stumped when they bring this into a nightclub and realize the camera needs a flash (duh).

Another market is gadget freaks who can afford anything.

But the biggest market, arguably, are professional shooters.

Why?

The Pen is one of the few camera products in a long long time to really answer the needs of experienced photographers who are strong in their photography fundamentals and are sick of the weight a full dSLR system entails.

Ask any good photographer today using a dSLR for work and he’ll show you a backup digicam inside his bag. It’s probably something like a Ricoh wide-angle, a Canon G10 or a Panasonic LX-3 grade camera. Some also like to use Fujifilm digicams which produce great results. Or more likely, it’s an entry-level, smaller version of the dSLR he’s currently using, so all the lenses can be reused on the backup. (Eg. an EOS 500D backup body for a EOS 5D body)

The need for a backup is important, because all cameras can die on you suddenly by choice or by dumb luck during a real shoot.

But digicams make terrible backup cameras and the photographer just doesn’t want to bring his professional gear on a vacation. The first thing that kills your vacation is an aching shoulder, and trust me, I’ve carried my Domke with loads of dSLR gear throughout trips in Oz, US and Italy and I’ll never do it again.

Most importantly, digicams just don’t cut it when it comes to image quality once you’re used to a dSLR.

The Red and Blue goblins at Toa Payoh North

For us photogs, the Pen immediately ticks every critical box. It combines great image quality, small lenses and a small, beautiful body all in one package. And it does video too, which is a nice, but unnecessary bonus in my opinion. The price is not really an issue considering we don’t blink very much when we spend several thousands on single lens and blow the toy budget for several years at one go.

Sure, the Pen’s image sensor is smaller and noisier than an EOS 5D, the lenses aren’t super tack-sharp like my Canon EF lenses and the body could be a bit lighter. But that’s missing the forest for the trees folks.

The moderate AF speed of the Pen demands careful shooting, but all good photographers shoot carefully, don’t they?

Whatever happened to waiting for that Kodak moment, or the decisive shot? Why do people think that shooting dozens of photos of the same scene will promise a great shot? (Caveat – I blast the camera shutter away at my kids because the two goblins change expressions endlessly).

Isabel at Bugis Junction food court

If you missed the money shot, it’s not the camera’s fault, but yours. People have shot great iconic stuff with nothing more than a simple manual film camera like the Nikon FM-2, and if you’ve used that very basic camera, you’d quit complaining about any digicam today because the latter feels like a magic upgrade.

Real photography demands absolute commitment and years of practice, as well as a dash of aesthetic sense. And the ability to “feel” or predict when the decisive moment is coming. Sounds like the X-Files, but it’s true. Experienced photographers are able to sense when the money shot is coming, and switch on their cameras in advance. Only because they are observing the scene with far greater scrutiny than the non-photographer, not because they have telepathy.

Most people will never invest in the time needed because they think it’s only something for “enthusiasts” or professionals. That means any camera they own will produce more or less the same results, image sensor quality notwithstanding.

What I’m really saying

Yet am I here to make an absolute case for the Pen? I’m not an Olympus “blogger enthusiast” nor spokesperson, and I can tell you the camera is far from perfect:

• Outdoors, it constantly underexposes by about 1/3 to 2/3 stop as it gets confused by certain colors and the exposure needed.
• As mentioned, the flash accessory is an absolute waste of money. A firmware upgrade is really needed here.
• The battery life is too short – about 250 to 350 shots on average.
• Face-detection doesn’t work most of the time in auto mode.
• The paucity of lenses is keeping many people away from investing at this point of time.
• It’s overpriced even for prosumers. Should be at SGD1,200 or less for a kit given current economic conditions and given the fact it’s using existing Four-Third-sized sensors found in other Olympus dSLRs.

These are the downsides you’ll probably not read about because most gadget reviews are done by non-photographers. It’s too much to expect them to be anyway, since they have to review everything from cameras to printers to mobile phones.

But the point I’m making here is that the real photographers need to stand up and be counted.

Caleb and Isaac at Jacob Ballas Garden, late evening. 

For too long, since the advent of digital photography, we’ve allowed any Tom Dick and Harry writer to assume the mantle of “an photography expert” and write articles that claim to teach everyone and anyone how to shoot well and which gear allows you to do that. Amazing, considering they might have never been employed as a photographer before to prove their worth on the market.

And so many amateurs who think that just because they can afford a decent camera system or even professional f2.8 zooms, they’re good enough to start charging for photography sessions.

The net effect is that the market value of many hardworking, talented photography professionals have plummeted over the past decade. From the wedding albums I’ve seen put on public display, the average Singaporean is quite happy with mediocre, Photoshopped images that are tilted at 45 degrees most of the time. And the average photographer is more than happy to keep churning those out.

Real photography starts from learning the fundamentals of exposure, than moving on to creating what is universally accepted as an aesthetic piece of work. Today, more than ever, people need to know that it’s not the camera that takes the photo, but the person. Flickr, Facebook or even YouTube will not make your visuals famous if they are mediocre to begin with.

Good photographers can squeeze the best out of every imaging machine, and the great news is that we can squeeze far more out of the Pen than many cameras today. So if you don’t know what constitutes a useful photographic tool, please don’t knock a great tool like the Pen. What it lacks may be what the camera needed to exist in the first place. If you don’t want to buy it, you don’t have to write it off like I’ve seen some people do.

From a photographer and tech writer’s point of view, I consider the Pen to mark a whole new era in the camera market. Mark my words, this kicks off the beginning of the Prosumer Camera Wars.

I can’t wait for the competition to arrive.

Related posts:

1. “Which camera should I buy?”
2. We want pancakes!
3. The Pen family expands really quickly

I have such fond memories of my first Series 60 Nokia phone – the 6680. Fat and bulky, but it was one of the most advanced phones in 2005.

My 3G Phone Wish List

By Ian Tan

My boss asked me to write a piece about 3G phones, but let’s not get elitist.

There’s nothing really special about 3G phones except that you can use them on the newfangled, high-speed phone networks in Singapore and around the world.

To me, the best thing is that any 3G model available here works perfectly well on the older GSM (2G) network.

So even if you have no desire to go 3G, they are your best bet if you are looking for a new and power-packed handphone.

For example, 3G handsets usually come with megapixel cameras, very good music playback capabilities, PDA-like functions and of course, a big mother of a LCD screen.

What about the high-speed Internet downloads? The ability to watch television shows, soccer matches and movie trailers in your palm?

Surely a tech writer should be on the mobile information highway right?

Well dear reader, you are asking me to be an early adopter.

And we all know that early adopters pay a high price to be on the cutting edge.

3G handsets need to be further improved before I decide to fork out more money each month for my handphone bill.

3G – WHAT I’D LIKE TO SEE

To be honest, some of the current 3G handsets are already pretty good even though they are first and second generation products.

However, when I tested several 3G phones from Nokia and Motorola recently, I realized there are certain key things phone-makers need to take note of.

Firstly, 3G handphones need a really loud loudspeaker and microphone

When you go shopping or take a crowded train, you don’t want to spend time shouting into the handphone and trying to hear what the caller is saying.

In really noisy places, the loudspeaker for 3G handsets simply isn’t loud enough and not enough of your background noise is filtered away.

Okay, maybe it is rude to have a blaring handphone in public places. We learnt that lesson with Ah-Beng ringtones.

But I hear there is a technology that could help us talk better on 3G.

Our local boys at Nanyang Technological University have been working something called Audio Beam for several years.

What it does is to transmit soundwaves in a straight line rather than radially, so you only hear the music when the speaker is pointed directly at you.

Think of it as an intense beam of sound that nobody else can hear.

Audio Beam is similar in principle to HyperSound technology developed by American Elwood Norris.

Now, whoever can put their audio technology onto handphones first is going to rake in a lot of dough.

Second, we need really bright screens

Most handphones screens are plain hard to read at when you stand under our searing sun.

Can you imagine trying to squint at your girlfriend’s fuzzy image while flying kites at Marina South?

Nokia’s latest 6680 3G handset will adjust its screen brightness automatically, depending on the amount of ambient light, but it is still not bright enough for me.

It’s going to suck batteries, but handphones need LCD screens as bright as those on the latest generation digicams.

Next, smaller but stronger batteries please

Talking about batteries, it is no secret that 3G handphones very power-hungry.

Not only do they have to keep making sure they are on the most efficient network (be it 2G or 3G), they have larger screens, stronger handphone microprocessors and there are extra burdens like swappable memory cards.

One hope lies in upcoming technologies like fuel cells, but it looks like the latter just suffered a major setback.

According to BBC News Online in March, Nokia announced that it had dropped plans to develop handphones with fuel cells over the next few years, claiming that “the sector was not mature yet”.

Fuel cells can be refilled like a lighter, and offer longer and stronger charges.

But you cannot have fuel cells without fuel (in this case, methanol), and remember, you cannot even bring a lighter, much less a fuel cell onto an airplane now.

Other tech companies are also researching fuel cells, so let’s keep our fingers crossed they make one that does not threaten to blow up in our pants.

Four, and for the geeks….

Nobody has brought in a 3G PDA-phone yet but you can be sure it will happen soon.

T-mobile in Germany recently unveiled their 3G MDA IV handheld device which runs on Microsoft’s Windows Mobile.

While the rest of the world is content with their tiny designer handphones, there is a growing number of geeks and business users who are snapping up all-in-one PDA-phones.

PDA-phones like HP’s 6365, O2’s XDA IIs and II Mini, are generally mini-computers first, then 2G mobile phones.

Size and weight is compromised to put in a huge touch-screen and powerful microprocessor to allow everything from viewing movies to keeping track of the stock market.

Actually, I believe most people only use the advanced address book and calendar functions. But it is a pretty good excuse to spend more money and reduce the number of geek devices in the bag.

And of course, nobody really likes to surf the Internet with their PDA-phones using the slow 2G network.

Most of the best PDAs now come with WiFi that allows you to connect to the Internet in hotspots and at home in you have a wireless network.

But until the whole world goes WiFi, you don’t always have hi-speed Internet on your handheld.

Always on, always available 3G Internet access should drive all of mobile geeks absolutely wild.

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3. My new Diamond 2 with Botticelli’s Venus

True, people do tend to get set in their ways as they get older. Nobody is very surprised when somebody retiring in two years says, "I’m too old. I can’t learn new things." Does that mean the person can’t do anything any more? I don’t think so. The person can transfer wisdom, based on personal experience, to younger people, cooperating with them to achieve a fusion.

Say two men, one 60 years old and the other 30 years old, are building a bridge. The older man might worry that he lacks the energy to build the bridge. But suppose the younger man says, "I’ll be the energy, I need your wisdom. You tell me how to build the bridge." That’s what communication really is.

NEA Interview with Howard Stringer

Sony’s CEO, Howard Stringer is a man I deeply respect for having a lot of brains and also the same amount of guts to match his intellectual prowess. If you read this interview where he critiques the old Sony ways and maps out where his company needs to go, I’m sure you’ll develop the same sort of respect for him, whether you like Sony products or not.

What was interesting was that only today, did I find out that Mr Stringer used to be a journalist.

Back when we were young rookies in the newsroom, we often heard the adage: “No journalist ever died rich.” Obviously, that’s a myth perpetuated by editors or HR departments to continually depress the salaries of journalists.

But many journos tend to think that the newsroom is the only place which they belong and end up spending their entire lives in the press. That’s very tragic, because a good journo can also be a powerful force in the business world – he can absorb huge amounts of information, analyse them quickly from multiple viewpoints, and articulate his thoughts clearly to get his desired results. More than I can say for many people I’ve observed in seats of power!

Of course, the dilemma for journos is that passion fuels their work, and much of that passion resides in reporting the latest news, having the ability to set the agenda for the public, and the repeated satisfaction one derives from seeing his byline on the front page. When transplanted into a corporate environment, many reject it and return to the newsroom.

For myself, I don’t see that happening anytime soon because I quite like being in a corporate environment and I’m lapping up the new challenges to communication in the fast-changing landscape. I’m also encouraged by the fact I know at least three ex-journos in my company today who are doing great work today in their respective fields.

Do take some time to read the interview. Cheers.

Related posts:

1. Being media-savvy
2. A Decade’s Work – Part V
3. The death of the Post-Intelligencer