Sunday, June 19, 2011

About Radio

When is the last time you turn on a Radio? I bet it is only a while ago while driving. Yes I do that all the time. It is either 93.8 or 95.8 and occasionally 92.4. But when is the last time you switch on your Radio at home? Probably you cannot remember. But I do occasionally listen to 92.4 at night despite the busyness with the internet and television. And I listen to 92.4 on my EVOKE DAB receiver. Yes ,DAB ... digital audio broadcasting. The quality is better than that of FM. MediaCorp has DAB services on air besides its 13 FM services. But unfortunately you need new radio receiver to tune in and it is more costly than a FM receiver and manufacturers don’t see a business case to put more receivers on the market. Mainly because there are a number of different digital standards that leave broadcasters and manufacturers uncertain of the future of digital radio. As such FM will remain the king for the next 44 years!
Radio in Singapore started in 1936 with a short wave service. In later years medium wave followed and with the present FM services in 1967. Both SW and MW closed down already. I must say Singapore listeners are spolit for choices on the present FM. There many FM channels by MediaCorp, SPH and SAFRA. I understand two more FM frequencies (FM 92 and FM89.3)are being offered by MDA and there are many takers. Don’t forget also we have Redifusion.

The website of Redifustion says

“Rediffusion is Singapore's ONLY subscription radio, offering a full suite of 15 regional and international channels (the most number of radio stations in Singapore) that include news, storytelling, music, entertainment, education and 17 local free-to-air channels.
is the 1st in the WORLD to broadcast on Digital Audio Broadcasting Plus (DAB+). This digital platform allows subscribers to enjoy Rediffusion's programs on our wireless digital receiver, which boasts flawless crystal-clear sound as compared to the fizzy FM noise.
has a rich history since 1949 and has been entertaining Singaporeans with quality programs that glue listeners to our radio 24/7.”

When I was a boy I used to listen to a famous story-teller on Redifusion and I remember it was the story of “The Monkey God”. He got many ears glued on the box every evening. Now Redifusion is pioneering the next wave of digitizing of the broadcast media that digital radio over the air. I forsee there will many more niche channels on the digital radio wave in the next five years.

If you are young you may prefer to listen to radio while on the go on your mobile phone. Most phones have FM services. And there is also Internet Radioboth on the PC and portables. You probably will know you could get many almost limitless radio channels on the net world wide. My wife and mum wont for this cause of the effort put in to turn on a computer or operate thoswe portable internet radio(using Wi-Fi). I think until Internet Radio is made easier to use FM will forever remain the King of Radio.

Whither Digital Radio??

Saturday, June 11, 2011

A Poem

Crabby Old Man
(Info contributed by Anthony Ng -a Caldecott Hill Old Timer)

When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in
GRASS VALLEY, CA. It was believed that he had nothing left of any value.
Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.
One nurse took her copy to Missouri. The old man's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the St. Louis Association for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.And this little old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet.

Crabby Old Man...
What do you see nurses? . . ... . . What do you see?
What are you thinking . . . . . When you're looking at me?
A crabby old man . .. . . . Not very wise,
Uncertain of habit ... . . . . With faraway eyes?

Who dribbles his food . . . .. . And makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice . . . . . 'I do wish you'd try!'
Who seems not to notice .. .. . ... . The things that you do.
And forever is losing . . . . . A sock or shoe?

Who, resisting or not . . . . . Lets you do as you will,

With bathing and feeding . .. . .. . The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking? . ... . . . Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse . . . . . You're not looking at me.

I'll tell you who I am. . . . ... . As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, . . . . . As I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of Ten . .. . . .. With a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters . . . .. ... Who love one another.

A young boy of Sixteen . . . .. With wings on his feet.
Dreaming that soon now . . . . . A lover he'll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty . . . . .. My heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows . . . . . That I promised to keep.

At Twenty-Five, now . . . .. . I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide . . . . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty . . . . . My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other .. . . . . With ties that should last.

At Forty, my young sons . . ... . . Have grown and are gone,
But my woman's beside me . . . . . To see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more, babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children . .. . . . My loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me . . . . . My wife is now dead.
I look at the future . . . . . Shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing . ... . . . Young of their own.
And I think of the years .. . . .. . And the love that I've known.

I'm now an old man . . . . .... And nature is cruel.
Tis jest to make old age . . . . . Look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles . . . . . Grace and vigor, depart.
There is now a stone . . . . Where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass . . . . . A young guy still dwells,
And now and again . . . . . My battered heart swells.
I remember the joys . . . . . I remember the pain.
And I'm loving and living . . . ... . Life over again.

I think of the years, all too few . . . . . Gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact . . . . That nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people . . . ... . Open and see.
Not a crabby old man . ... . . Look closer . .. . See ME!!

Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within.
We will all, one day, be there, too!

The best and most beautiful things of this world can't be seen or touched. They must be felt by the heart.

(Note: there are many stories spun around this poem. This is one version)