This morning I was in the gym so I picked up a copy of The Age newspaper (the gym has been giving out free copies for a few months now). I turned to the editorial to find out what the stand of the paper was regarding the recent cartoon rage. Just in case you have been away from Planet Earth for the past few days, a newspaper in Denmark known as the Jyllands-Posten had, back in September 2005, published cartoons depicting the Prophet Mohammad in various caricatures, mainly as a terrorist or even the patron saint of terrorists. There were pockets of protests then but when these cartoons were re-published first in Norway then in other European countries, the protests escalated. The Age editorial sounded very measured and reasonable. It wasn’t going to publish the cartoons. It asserted the freedom to publish them but said it exercised such freedom against doing so.

The reason many papers decided to publish them is precisely because they have been threatened against doing so. It sounds like such threats demanded a response to show they have not been cowed. Did The Age cower?

There was then someone on 3AW who riled against The Age. He obviously thought they were cowed. He pointed out that the desire to maintain and build good relations across cultures did not prevent them from publishing cartoons which offended other religions and communities in the past. A few listeners then called to point out specific instances when for example, Mother Theresa was ridiculed in a cartoon, and when Jews were similarly ridiculed. Where was The Age’s stance then in so far as good relations across cultures were concerned?

This person then went on to point out that Middle Eastern newspapers have for years published cartoons which ridiculed Judaism, so they had no moral rights to now protest against this otherwise obscure Danish newspaper (Jyllands-Posten).

I sincerely believe there are times when rights and principals have to be put aside. It is all relative of course. Issues such as whether these are fundamental rights and principals, and whether the particular instances requiring temporary shelving of these rights and principals are instances going to the heart of their exercise.

When one is confronted with threats against life itself, can the right to free speech not be defended by acts which do not further provoke the source of the threat? Or must such threats necessarily require the very act which defies them? Can the right to free speech not be defended by acts other than the publication of these cartoons? Is the restraint against publication necessarily a defeat to free speech? Is that necessarily bad?

I am often chastised by my wife for speaking up. Yet in this instance I believe the right to free speech must give way to the priority of reaching out and healing broken relationships. Maybe it is a cultural thing. I cannot see how defending a right such as right to free speech can take precedence over the restoration of harmonious relationships. Maybe some would argue such harmony could not last as long as they are based on threats and the inability to accept the rights of others to make their own choices would make for a one-way and unbalanced relationship. It is therefore important that rights such right to free speech be defended to establish the point that the right to make choices must take precedence in a robust relationship.

The debate has been going on for donkey’s ears and I guess they would go on. My inclination is that given the current fragile state of affairs, compromise is the order of the day. To that end, restrain and a temporary shelving of rights is necessary, perhaps on both sides of the fence. Like the Paul McCartney song said, can we not stop for a moment and smoke the pipes of peace?

In her work, Theresa has been involved in a project known as MyMerch. I think it is short for Myer Merchandising System or something like that. It is meant to revamp the procurement and purchasing system, I guess.

This afternoon as I took a walk during lunch, I saw this Mercedes Benz Kompressor – maybe an SLK or something. Old model perhaps, possibly 7- 8 years easily. Still, it looked very nice. What made it stand out more was the plate – MYER.

I naturally emailed Theresa of MyMerch, of this car known as Myer Merc. Unlike MyMerch, Myer Merc is not an unwieldy team of fixed-asset type of employees trying to rid the ailing retailing giant of an ancient system. This Myer Merc may not be hot off the oven but it is hot and looked just as slick as any other sports car on the road.

I want to age like that. No, not like Myer, but Myer Merc.

 

A bottle of 1991 Penfolds Grange was sold, when released, at $65 a bottle. In an auction in 2001, this wine was sold for more than $400 ($422). A 1995 Three Rivers Shiraz 1995 was released for $65 in 1999, and was auctioned in 2001 for $811. These sorts of returns have prompted a client (now deceased) to invest a huge dump in premium wine, which has now hit a major snag. The company making the purchases and managing the storage of the purchased vintages has gone into liquidation (there’s a pun here somewhere, I’m sure) and the liquidators are milking the drops into a drunken stupor (well almost – cant resist that line) in sorting out who owns what. I feel sorry for the client’s widow and every time I work on the matter I wished she would somehow distil the murky barrel to recover the bulk of what her husband put in.

 

What all of this has done for me personally is of course, made me feel absolutely puny as a wine drinker. I hardly spend more than $10 a bottle on my wine, which has now become my grog of choice. On the odd occasion I splurge a little bit and get something between $15 and $20. Sometimes, like during the Chinese New Year celebrations, I go for broke and spend closer to $50, knowing I wont do this again for a long time. By the way, it turned out that the CNY dinner we went to drank mainly beers and whiskies. I had also brought along a 15-year Glenfiddich (single malt, of course), for which I made a lot of friends that night. So the bottle of Annie’s Lane was left untrodden and was brought back home. I now don’t know when I should pop that open. I hate to keep it for the Year of the Pig and find then that Annie’s Lane has turned into Rosemary’s Pit or something like that. Maybe I’d open it for Valentine’s Day and entice Theresa into drinking herself silly.

Anyway, the point of all of this is of course the pained realisation of the vast expanse between my drops and those enjoyed by some people out there. I have of course heard of Penfold’s almighty Grange and Henschke’s Hill of Grace, even when I was buying awful French wines in Malaysia. A client in Malaysia who owns several thousand acres of oil palm plantation once told me about Grange and Hills of Grace which he had while in Sydney and was truly pleased I had heard about these vintages. Every time he mentioned these wines, his eyes lit up and you couldn’t help but be swept by the aura of these labels. I must one day do a wild thing and actually buy a bottle of either of these and compare it to the magical 1982 Margaux I had once in (of all places), Phnom Penh. I was there with a couple of my ex-bosses on a business trip of sorts and a General had hosted us to a dinner where all we were interested in were the boxes of Margaux he had lying on the floor. After drinking a few bottles we were also given a few to take away with us. And, for good measure, some of us had our doors knocked on later that night with offers of vintages of other kinds. Clearly, the general had something in mind.

The Margaux was truly magical and I had often wondered how the Grange or Hill of Grace would line up beside this French aristocrat. But perhaps I must first give Annie’s Lane a little inspection. Actually I had tried it once already, when my boss bought me dinner about 3 weeks ago. He took pity on my temporary bachelorhood and asked me to join him and his wife for dinner. We each had a glass of Annie’s Lane, which he said was one of his favourites. Firstly, I was drinking with the boss. Secondly, it was a single glass and clearly we were there not for the wine. I remember it as a very good wine but unfortunately it wasn’t an unforgettable experience. I must therefore re-acquaint myself with Annie before I venture further.

Contented, I must attempt to be, however. All these are indulgences which should not take any precedence. I must be happy with whatever it is I have been drinking. After all, I have come to recognise very drinkable Clean Skins. I know they are the bane of true wine lovers but you know what they say about wine connoisseurs – the best wine is the one you enjoy the most. For example, I have also discovered some dirt cheap Merlots by Coonawarra or Lindeman which are very drinkable. They all come well under $10 and I would not hesitate serving it to my true mates, as long as they don’t stain our teeth.

 

The last time I got into the gym at 6am was maybe over 6 weeks ago. Since the Christmas break started I have been spoilt rotten. During the 2 week holiday, I woke up no earlier than 8am on most days, and only got into the gym at 9am. Since we went back to work over 3 weeks ago, I only went on Saturday mornings.

I guess a main reason is we have been going to bed later in these warmer days and it is tough getting up early.  

I was beginning to feel more sluggish for all the lack of exercise however and thought I had better resume more “normal” schedules. After all, kiddo has started school again and life has taken on more “normal” cycles again.

I resolutely climbed out of bed at 5.10 this morning, went through my usual routine and pulled into the car park of the gym just before 6. It felt good again to be pounding the treadmill at that hour and though it was short of what I wanted to do, the 45 minute run of just under 9km was enough to soak my singlet in sweat. A 10-15 minute stretch after that ensured a full hour of exercise and it felt rather good.

Problem is: I am now feeling a sudden plunge of energy, even low blood pressure. I guess after almost 6 weeks, the body has gotten used to having left over energy at this hour to plough on. Confronted with a sudden surge of energy use, the surplus is suddenly now a deficit.

Boy, do I need a pick-me-up right now. Actually you know what – I feel like a cold sugar cane juice right at this moment! No? Okay, maybe a quick sweet cup of coffee…