Get Me a Pole and I'll Show You

Finally got a chance to try out pole dancing with a couple of friends. $200 per pax bought us a 90-minute "trial party" where 17 girls plus an instructor shared five poles, some laughs and a lot of confused looks. Sexy, confused looks.

We weren't afraid to flaunt our firefighter moves, except for me with my wimpy arms. Soon before long we were thrusting hips and pouting lips. One girl in particular perhaps showed a little more potential for a first timer than called for. The most impressive move we learned had to be the twirling, much like that executed by Natalie Portman in Closer the moment Jude Law saw her in the strip club. It's surprisingly effortless and feels a bit like going down the swirly slide on the playground. I have such an urge to twirl some more I don’t think I’ll ever see a signpost the same way again.

Only towards the end of the class did the instructor put on music. By then we had learned a whole "routine" which we were to practise with supposed sexy music in the background. But soon as a remix of "Touch My Body" came on, all I could think of was this rendition of the song I recently discovered, regrettably:

Ha Ha

Went to TakeOut Comedy last Friday for their standup. As what founder Jami Gong called a “comedy virgin” I didn’t know what to expect, and ended up having a good laugh and found the $150 well spent for the 90 minutes of entertainment.

The show featured quite a few comedians, some less funny than others. They are clearly amateurs with no good reason to quit their day jobs, with the exception of the only Chinese comedian featured who claimed he’d been unemployed for 24 months. Andrew Chu looked like your typical loser Chinese kid who if not for his caveman dimensions would get stuffed in the locker in highschool at least four times a day. But man, I think I speak for the entire audience when I say he was the single funniest comedian featured that night. No doubt his Chinky accent, low-budget props and personal loser stories all added to the humor meter. But more importantly he was the only one with material truly localized for the Hong Kong experience, which really stood out from the other, more-or-less-the-same expat encounters in Asian communities.

The show would’ve been much better if Jami Gong himself would have spent more time on stage than the 20 seconds between each act. I reckon he’s the only real deal in the whole comedy club, and I’d be the first in line to see him in a solo show.

Went to TakeOut Comedy again this past Friday for their improv show, which they associate with Whose Line in their market materials. How dare they. If anything, it resembled a first rehearsal for a school play by a bunch of obnoxious 14-year-olds. Couldn't figure out if it was a bigger waste of money or time. I laughed twice the whole show.

Fourth Row

I hadn’t screamed that loud since summer 2000. And even then at Leslie Cheung’s world tour, I refrained from jumping up and down too much in fear of making a scene tumbling down the inside of the Coliseum from my binocular seat ― so called because you need binoculars to actually see the performer.

This time, I made sure I felt every spit.

The plot isn’t the best, even boring at times; the punch lines are rarely funny; and the dancers aren’t synchronized enough to create the theatrical effect I’d expected to see. But the phenomenon known as We Will Rock You is every bit Queen.

While no-one can replicate the charisma of the Freddie Mercury (duh), MiG Ayesa was so fantastic in the lead role that had they allowed alcohol in the venue I would’ve thrown my panties on stage.

I went on a Sunday night and was surprised to find that it wasn’t a full house. What a waste. They’re here till the 22nd, so if you haven’t already, go!

Next month, I’ll be in my fourth-row seat at the Cirque Theater in Venetian Macau for Cirque du Soleil’s first permanent show in Asia. I have a feeling I’ll be visiting Macau a lot more often from now on.

From 5 to 10

It’s been an eventful three weeks.

Adam Lavine’s pseudo-angelic voice wasn’t enough to make up for the poor venue choice for Maroon 5’s concert in Hong Kong. It was the first time and very likely the last I’d pay to see a live music performance in that sorry excuse for an arena. Not to mention the supposed two-hour concert only lasted one-and-a-half; unless you count the background music (including the likes of “Sex Machine”) played over the PA system over the 40-minute grace period while half the band’s fan base in Hong Kong took their good old time getting their fat asses to the venue. “When’s the show going to start?” I asked. “It won’t be soon before long.”

Three days ago, two of my good friends got married. Actually, they got married exactly a year ago in Guam but only had the reception in Hong Kong now. It was the second time I’d been a bridesmaid and the first time I was actually happy to do the bride the favor. Don’t get me wrong, I was still bitter as hell about having to get up at 6:30 just to be someone’s bitch over the next 18 hours. But at least this time around, a dress was provided, albeit a one-size-fits-all nightgown look-alike I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing again. Nonetheless, I’m very happy for C and F. And I genuinely wish the two of them the ever-lasting loving relationship I can only dream of.

The following day, J and I tagged along as his boss’ guests to watch what was going to be my first live sports game. The Tens is nowhere near as exciting as the Sevens ― which I’m watching on TV now as I type, but that didn’t stop me from enjoying the free wine, meat pie and eye candy. Those guys in the last game were so buff that, at first glance, I thought they were wearing football gear. It was no surprise that the NZ Metro won by a mile and took the cup for the third consecutive year. The surprise came later when I got to stand face-to-face with who must be the hottest player on the team and shake his sweaty hand, which was a huge discount from what I really wanted to touch.

Okay, so that was hardly “eventful”, but it was more excitement than I’ve had in a while.

Embarrassing Execution

Had the opportunity to talk to the six judges for the HK4As Awards. It would've been nicer had I had the time to prepare for the valuable encounters to make actual interviews out of them instead of looking like a complete dumbass in front of these amazing creative masterminds with my brainless questions. If only I were crazy enough to stay at this new job of mine, I reckon I'd eventually get to meet some of them again.

I only hope that during their stay in Hong Kong none of them had seen the colossal wall ad for Elements in the MTR Hong Kong station. While "Why be dull?" makes sense as a theme for the new mall's marketing campaign, the ad itself is the dullest and absolutely the fugliest I've seen in Hong Kong in a long, long time.

So Fucking Inspired

It's been a while since I'd felt as alive as I did yesterday at HKTDC's Innovation & Design Expo. The experience was much like visiting the art museum, but better. Impressive works of photography, graphic design, poster ads, and less impressive fashion designs—all made in Hong Kong—were on display though in a small scale. The Hong Kong Invention Association has a couple dozen booths showcasing gadgets like a smokeless ashtray, which supposedly slows down the burning of a cigarette and reduces emission of second-hand smoke. It was too bad the exhibitor couldn't demonstrate in the smoke-free venue.

The seminars co-organized by Hong Kong Design Centre as BODW events proved to be rewarding. The experiences, case studies and design philosophies shared by the speakers were not nearly as practical as they were inspiring. I particularly enjoyed the background story of the 2006 FIFA World Cup logo design as told by design and branding veteran Michael Yu of Creation House; and the remarkable quest from making toy cars to developing, patenting and offering a whole new printing technology as shared by the charming-in-a-strange-way Victor Chan of UGT.

A couple of days ago a colleague had on his msn handle "Passion = the secret of success". I said to him, it's no secret; passion is the key to success. I've long grasped this truth and at the same time have continued to come across people whose complete lack of passion in their jobs makes you wonder why they bother doing what they do. So it was very comforting to see that there is in fact a lot of people in our city who still have that burning fire in their eyes.

Managing (barely) the editorial department in probably the one "Publications Ltd" who cares least about editorial has drained the life out of me. I need to get into a more creative field of work. Job offers anyone?

Touring Hong Kong

It's remarkable how fast our tourism industry is heading straight for the gutter. First, Disneyland fails to impress (though the mainlanders who go there pull off some pretty impressive stuff), and promises to continue to be so at least until the third phase opens, if it opens at all. My grandkids won't be able to wait that long. Now, what was supposed to be Asia's biggest cable car system fails to open altogether, delivering Lantau's biggest punch line. It's as if featured attractions are striving to outdo one another in making embarrassing headlines.

It's precisely at times like these that we relearn to appreciate good old tourist spots. Oldies like the Peak and the Ocean Park are only getting more packed, with tourists and locals alike. And reaching their respective maximum capacities is anything but a problem for them.

With renovation work still in progress, the Peak Tower is now deserted with the exception of Madame Tussaud's wax museum, which makes this the perfect time to visit for people like me, who can't care less about the retail shops that are scheduled to open later in the year anyway. The wax museum only reopened recently with new statues and backdrops spanning through two floors. From what I could see when I went a few days ago, visitors generally have a blast posing and taking pictures with legendary celebrities and politicians, leaving lesser-known Hong Kong "singers" to gather cobwebs. The experience is well worth the $100 admission. It's fun because it's interactive. I knew I got more than my money's worth by the fourth time I grabbed Brad Pitt's ass.

Leslie Cheung--no cobweb there

It's So Sexy

Level 1 general French at L'Alliance Française de Hong Kong was a piece of gâteau, not because I'd long completed grade 9 French back in Toronto (sadly, the only thing I could remember from the mandatory French I took back then was "Je ne sais pas"), but because most of my classmates have enough trouble with English as it is, let alone with our teacher's heavy Parisian accent. Hence most of the 30 hours was spent on explaining and further explaining the meaning of English words.

$1690 for 30 hours is bon marché indeed. The teacher explained that this is as cheap as language courses get in Hong Kong. Alliance Française made sure its courses were more affordable than those offered by the British Council and similar institutions for other European languages, so as to attract more students. In fact, the competitive pricing drew in a diverse student body, comprising highschool students, si-lais, and those in between.

The 20-student capacity we started with, however, was down to 12 students in the last class. Actually, the class pretty much shrank to that size only three weeks into the course. That illustrates: a) how little determination people can have with something they once thought they were interested in, and b) how well off these people (or their parents) are as to be able to fork out close to 2K (paid in a lump sum at the beginning of the term) for classes they do not attend.

Needless to say, I was the best student, and probably the only A student, in the class. I can't wait to master just enough phrases so I can pretend French is "my thing".

The Goosebump Factor

I react to good music from the bottom of my heart, literally. Warmth is sensed at my center, then almost immediately the signal spreads outward, in every which direction, making the hairs on my arms stand on their ends. It's the most primal sign that I enjoy what I'm listening to. It's almost like that electrifying sensation you get in the first few months of a new relationship.

Eason Chan's Get a Life Concert had its grand finale Sunday night at the Coliseum. He remains the only Hong Kong singer whose live performance is worth paying money to watch. The cocky husband and father who earlier claimed there'd be no encore at his concerts this year gave his audience plenty on the show's last night. I loved that it was a no-bull-crap kind of show. It was 200 minutes full of his grade-A singing, with very little chitchat only during the last 45 minutes when he just had to express how hyped he was that his audience was so hyped. (It was later reported that two fans felt ill during the show, from overexcitement.) The only special guest featured was not there to force-feed the audience with off-key singing or lame jokes, but was there to dance with him. And what little dancing he did was only the best moves: tap dancing; Broadway; hip hop; and he completely nailed that moonwalk, which was very Usher. All in all, the show was everything I expected from Eason Chan, and more.

Unlike at the Coliseum, concerts at the Hong Kong Cultural Centre start and end on time. Terence Blanchard's sextet played two hours of soulful jazz Saturday night. And it was the best sex ever. Music started playing soon as the fat lady fell (those are some very steep steps in the Concert Hall balcony). It’s amazing how different elements of something can be so random at the same time that they’re in total harmony. It sounded as if the more each band member improvised, the more in sync the tune was. The soft jazz together with the dimmed light had an almost sedative effect. At one point I found myself fighting hard against an acoustic coma. That was until the more bouncy numbers came along. The band was playful and it was very obvious that each member was madly in love with what they were doing. Each tap of the finger and every sway of the shoulders was passionate; everything was music. Kendrick Scott on the drums, in particular, had a heck of a time staying in his chair as all four limbs of his flapped vigorously all the way.

There’s no substitute for good music. This was one hell of a good weekend.

QUIDAM

QUIDAM was every bit the mystical experience I knew it would be. The two-plus hours of breathtaking performances brought about one jaw-dropping climax after another.

Under le Big Top, nothing is impossible

The kind of trance Cirque du Soleil puts its audience in is not something I can even start to describe. It simply must be appreciated in person. And it’s definitely one of the things every person should experience at least once. The show made me reevaluate the potential of our own species; to think what beautiful things we hold the power of creating, and what bracing inspiration that can bestow upon others.

The essence of Cirque

Whimsical facial makeup is an essential part of any circus act. And Cirque du Soleil certainly boasts of its elaborate costumes for all its sideshows. But the main acts of QUIDAM featured bare bodies, with the simplest props if any. It was about embracing body dynamics. Each twist and jump manifested tremendous energy; each body formation and posture demonstrated the magnificence of the human body. Every movement was full of strength and grace at the same time.

Statue: The truest form of “two become one”

Going Jurassic

Finally, a shopping mall display worthy of hogging over. The dinosaurs are coming to Cityplaza. The exhibition doesn’t start till June 24, but crowds have already been gathering around the display grounds. I myself caught a glimpse of the unpacking of the 26-meter-long Mamenchisaurus jingyanensis this morning, the longest, largest and most intact Sauropoda ever found in Asia. It was much like a giant 3D jigsaw puzzle that takes highly skilled hands to assemble on a couple of two-story ladders. Too bad I didn’t have my camera with me. But a definite perk of living close by a shopping mall is that I can take my time photographing these displays after-hours.

With that said, I know I still won’t be able to stand the crowds our Jurassic friends are bound to bring in every time I walk through the mall on my way home. The selfish bitch in me is secretly hoping the exhibits will go away as soon as I finish photographing them. But in fact, the show doesn’t end till July 31. So until then, happy eye rolling.

Thanks to the Loan-a-Dino program at the Beijing Museum of Natural History and the Sichuan Zigong Dinosaur Museum, the exhibition will feature eight fossils that have not previously been shown in Hong Kong, including Lufengosaurus huenei—the most ancient species of dinosaur found in China and the first with which Chinese researchers began their studies, as well as the 10 animal and plant fossils.

I’m such a geek.

Only in Lamma

Where else could you have a power plant as the backdrop of a beach party?! It's only in Lamma. And that's where I spent my Saturday night.

It was my first visit to my favorite island this year. I'd been dying to go but the weather just hasn't been the friendliest these past weekends. It was also my first time stepping on a Lamma beach past sunset--a time when the island is practically pitch dark with the exception of the seafood restaurants along the two piers. This of course made the walk to and from the beach and mid-party washroom visits that much more fun (especially because "washroom" means "the bushes" in beach party lingo). But fortunately the beach party was held on what locals refer to as the "Power Station Beach", which is in fact located right next to a power station that was so beautifully luminated it reminded me of Christmas.

"High-voltage rythymic monsters alongside some spanking new disco-funk and afrobeat lunacy" was what the e-mail invitation said about the band NUDE. I'm not going to comment on the band. I'll just say that the main entertainment of the party was provided by those on the sandy dance floor, but not in the way that it's meant to be.

The climax of the party, I think most would agree, has got to be the power outage. Only lasted a few seconds, but its irony is just too immense to forget.

The crowd remained rather reserved until almost midnight

The Right Impression

What I was sure to be a pretentious event turned out to be quite enjoyable. A private viewing of an Impressionism art exhibition for HSBC's Premium account holders was bound to give me something to blog about. But the words that follow actually involve a lot less criticizing than I expected.

I've never really been big on painting. Had someone actually painted a portrait of me, I'd be huge on it, literally. By the sound of it, "oil on canvas" has got to add more pounds than the camera.

I've been to the ROM a couple of times when I was in Toronto. Other than a five-by-two-meter canvas with nothing but black paint throughout—which to this date I still don't see as ROM-worthy work, I can't recall being captured by any particular piece.

A visit or two to the Louvre would've been a must if I had followed through with my European journey last month. Little did I know that there's a piece of France right here at home. Our sardine-can city is in the midst of embracing L'annee de la France en Chine, of which Impressionism: Treasures from the National Collection of France is a highlight program.

I'm not going to comment on the art. But there were a couple of pieces that left a good impression with me, including this one:

A Studio in Batignolles, 1870, by Henri Fantin-Latour

Now the criticism. HSBC Premium account holders deserve only the best. The cocktail set on the ground floor of the Hong Kong Museum of Art next to a classical quartet was more decent than I'd expect Maxim to pull off. Well-mannered female servers walked around with trays of fresh OJ, grape soda and peach soda, and plates of finger snacks. At the sound of "It's caviar!" I witnessed the server who was standing two feet from me take the batter of a lifetime. I barely had time to back off before swarms of premium free riders centered in on her from all directions fighting for the eight mini tartlets left on her tray. Those who couldn't get close enough reached far out with their arms like loyal fans dying for a handshake with MJ outside the courthouse.

Hong Kong can be portrayed as the cultural hub of Asia. But Hong Kongers will always be Hong Kongers. And Hong Kongers can turn art exhibitions into buffets.

Events of the Day

It's October, i.e. trade show month. So yesterday, I went to Kenfair's 13th Hong Kong International Toys & Gifts Show & 12th Asian Gifts, Premium & Household Products Show (my theory is that because Chinese people have standardized names to range between two and four Chinese characters, they like to make up for their egos by making up names for companies and events that take up at least one entire line).

I genuinely believe even our government has lost count of the number of trade shows held in Hong Kong each year. The notion of quality over quantity simple does not exist in this city. I'd say 90% of the exhibitors are the exact same ones I saw in a similar show in April, and 90% of the products of these exhibitors are the same as when I saw them in April. Nothing more than your run-of-the-mill coffin-shaped inflatable bed.

Shows organized by Kenfair are quite a different experience though, I must say. For one, I can't name another tradeshow organizer to openly reject its competitors from exhibiting at its shows and even ban any press from its competing trade publications to visit the show. What can I say except "How low can you go?"

After two-plus hours of aimless browsing, I left the notorious event and did some aimless browsing on the streets of Wan Chai. Well, not exactly aimless as I was trying to find a place to grab a bite at. In the end, I went back to the good old Beijing Dumplings, where it seemed business was not rolling as it should be. So I did what I do best. I ate more than I should've. I think the nice owner applauded my heroic attempt. He even cut me some slack and let me order just half a serving of fried dumplings after I'd already finished a whole serving of steamed ones so I didn't have to over-overstuff myself.

The day concluded marvelously with my first visit to the Hong Kong Central Library. It's been longer than I can remember since I'd been in an actually resourceful library. Other than the escalator layout, I liked every inch of the space. The experience shoved the four-eyed geek right back in me. I think the Hong Kong Central Library will become one of my regular hangouts after Lamma.

Day in Tai Po

Since seeing it on TV for the first time I don't remember how many years ago, I've wanted to visit the wishing tree in Tai Po. The chance finally came up yesterday when I attended a not so traditional "basin cuisine" lunch I wasn't invited to. "Not so traditional" because endless pieces of taro were found in our basin where a fair share of avian flu carriers should have been. Other than that, it was good old traditional village cuisine. Where else would you be served 20 separate types of food in the same dish? More importantly, where else could 20 separate types of food all taste the same?

The wishing tree experience would have been more fun if we hadn't been lucky enough to run into Hong Kong's tATu. For a minute the digicams and flashlights had me think our prosperous tourism industry was really rebounding Hong Kong. The flock of fans and press was probably the tree's worst nightmare, of course after nearly getting burnt down last month.

The whole idea of the wishing tree is to write down wishes on a thin stack of what felt like rice paper material, which is then rolled up and tied to an orange. And the wish maker is then to toss the whole thing up the tree. For the price of a pineapple bun, I had the time of my life tossing again and again with what little arm strength I had, up to what looked like Oscar the Grouch's idea of a Christmas tree, while staying alert for flying Sunkists from every which direction. I finally made it at the third attempt, when my wish twirled around and clung onto someone else’s wish without ever touching the tree itself.

Harbour Best

Air Supply was better than I expected. A lot better than I expected. Their hundred-minute performance was more than good enough to compensate for the 50 minutes before they stepped on the stage.

To everyone's surprise, the show started on time, but only because Eason Chan had a movie premiere to attend in Wan Chai at 9:30. He sang three of his latest billboard tops, then left the stage to Ronald Cheng to kill but another 15 minutes.

Because the audience wasn't told, what could have been called an intermission was just a really long wait. We thought the band would come out as soon as the equipment was set, who knew that meant 20 minutes of looking at the blacked out stage and two huge-ass TV panels showing nothing but the Harbour Fest logos while listening to "The Beatles Greatest Hits" play on the PA system.

Special lighting and sound effects plus the Air Supply's charisma made the performance of the previous two look like rehearsals for a highschool open day.

Unlike Eason Chan who decided it added a personal touch to perform in his pajamas, Graham and Russell went backstage midway into their show and changed into what looked like old ladies' pajamas, while Jonni Lightfoot carried out a phenomenal solo that could have been a show on its own.

I haven't seen Hong Kongers so hyper since July 1st. Most of us were on our feet, clapping or waving to the beat. I didn't know all the songs the band sang, but it was not hard to indulge myself in the music. Though at several instants the attention of my friends and me were direced to the waving asses of the fans in front of us.

And as I had expected, people do leave the show halfway, even though the tickets (as far as I know) were not free, and yet other people who stay till the end could still manage to not know what they had just seen. On the way out I overheard a guy asking his companion "I know that was Eason Chan who performed first, but who was that other guy?"

The ticket sales of last night's show were probably the best in Harbour Fest records so far. My guess is that they will remain the best throughout the rest of the fest. Sure, the Stones are big. But which Hong Konger wouldn't rather spend that budget on half an LV bag?!

But then, which government would spend a hundred mil on rock concerts?!