Old Chang Kee Is Making Money. Too Much Money?

I sent this to the press 4 days ago but they didn't publish it. 

"Recently, curry puff maker Old Chang Kee reported a 42% jump in profits for sales across the 6 months prior to 30 September. This is on the back of a 53% jump in the previous reporting cycle.

While this is great news for shareholders, we need to also factor in how price increases of their retail products have contributed to this extraordinary profitability. I recall their basic Curry O chicken curry puff cost $1.60 a couple of years ago and is now sold for $2 - a rise of 25%.

It is a tad incredulous that the company states that "inflationary pressures from the rising expenses of raw materials, labour and rental, and that manpower shortage remains challenging" when clearly the reported metrics show a different outcome.

Given the inflationary concerns Singapore residents have been going through post-Covid, it is concerning that local companies are riding on these price increases to help boost their profits at the expense of the tightened purse strings among ordinary folk."

Talking to friends, they've also expressed similar, seemingly ridiculous price hikes at Toast Box and Ya Kun, our favourite local places. A check online shows that the cheapest hot drink at Toast Box, a basic hot Kopi-O, is $3. A friend of mine told me his Ice Teh-O at Ya Kun cost him $4.20. 

At the same time, i also have friends who said there's nothing wrong with making a profit. They go "Buyer beware" as the customer has a choice in the matter. I agree but what happens to the overall retail environment is that the price hikes permeate. I would also classify coffee and tea a basic need in Singapore, maybe even on par with rice and cooking oil - items consumed at least once a day. 

When one vendor raises prices to "combat inflation and rising cost of goods", another will follow suit to create a new normal benchmark for similar goods sold in similar ways (local coffee in a mall setting for example). What this does then is cause a slow but steady rise in inflation across the board, which ultimately affects you and me. 

Not one company's problem but a country-level matter, how the small details ladder up to the big albeit gloomy picture. When basic needs become expensive, often consumers do not think of finding alternatives because that's how basic needs are ingrained in their purchase behaviour. Do the powers that be care?

Employers will face pressures to raise salaries as their staff start complaining their paychecks aren't enough to make ends meet the same way as before. I am wondering if Old Chang Kee, Ya Kun and Toast Box raised salaries alongside their price increases.

One friend said my photo would go up on the walls at Old Chang Kee outlets if the letter was published. I think I would be proud, curry puffs dismissed by principle.  

Angmoh Falls Down, No One Cares

I was walking home along Race Course Road on Sunday evening. It was a spontaneous decision to work off a massive lunch over the 3km it would take to get home. It was busy as expected, mostly with foreign workers out and about on their day off. As I made my way to the junction with Birch Road, I saw an older, stout Caucasian man lying slumped on the grass verge on the traffic island. His body was partly twisted, and a walking cane lay a metre away. I rushed towards him, asked if he was alright and proceeded to help him up. He had trouble righting himself, and he said his left leg was weak. After some effort, the gentleman managed to stand upright, with my hands providing support under his shoulders. He was disoriented but coherent. I wasn’t sure if he was inebriated but he could hold a conversation albeit at a subdued pace.

When I asked what happened, he explained that he had tripped, lost his balance and fell. When I asked if he lived nearby, he replied affirmatively but there was no one home to fetch him. I next asked if he was in pain or needed an ambulance. He insisted he merely wanted to get home, that he hated hospitals. As we slowly made our way towards where he lived, we engaged in rather amiable conversation. I introduced myself and he said his name was John, and that he was 63 years old. From his accent I had assumed he was a tourist from England but he explained he was a Singapore permanent resident for many years. He could even joke that I was as chatty as his ex-wife, and that his caretaker would be upset when she finds out about his predicament.

We trudged carefully towards one of the smaller lanes spreading in and out of Race Course Road while chatting. I kept firmly by his side to guide his slow sometimes wobbly steps along the pavement, making sure his footing was accurate and didn’t teeter off the edge. After accomplishing 30 metres or so, I could tell John was tiring as he began to lean off balance. I quickly got help from a pedestrian to bring a chair over from a nearby restaurant for John to take a needed recovery break. I also discovered John had a phone and via a call to his helper, I ascertained exactly where he was putting up - about 50m down the road.

During our breather, I spotted a few Certis Cisco personnel making their way towards us. They had high-visibility vests on while making their rounds monitoring the Little India crowds this weekend. As they came by, I requested if they could help me with supporting John to his nearby apartment. I have a couple of slipped discs at 50 years old and rendering assistance can often render me bedridden for a bit. The pseudo-cops were hesitant to help outright, and suggested that getting an ambulance was more appropriate. John declined, again repeating his plea to get home. The Certis Cisco staff present were soon joined by a couple more colleagues who popped out a passenger van that had stopped by the side of the road. From the conversation that ensued, I could sense the reluctance from these boys in blue at getting involved, that they had to get back to their regular duties instead. I breathed an internal sign of exasperation and told them we would figure ourselves out and the squad left.

I coaxed John up, and we continued to amble along the busy road. I had to make him lean on a pillar so that I could return the chair borrowed from a restaurant. I think John found it amusing. At some point, in front of the building called home, a couple of passers-by graciously helped to lift John a few steps up when he couldn’t bear his weight on one leg. I escorted him up to his apartment, stayed with him for about 10 minutes to make sure he was settled, and informed his caretaker that he was back safe and sound. 

I don’t know how long John was lying on the grass verge for, and am surprised no one else came to his aid. Singaporeans, come on! I’m also disappointed by the lack of reasonable assistance from the Certis Cisco staff. I understand that the situation was out of their regular scope of work. Nonetheless, it would have been decent if they could have rendered some help to bring John home - perhaps a quick ride in the passenger van to relieve an old person from having to struggle 50 metres on foot to his home.  With a burgeoning elderly population, there will be more situations like this for everyone to deal with, not just civil servants or medical staff. We’ll need kinder, decent residents to step up and play their part. 

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PS - I went back to visit John the next morning. The helper was there and she thanked me. She also rolled her eyes at John for going out unaccompanied, haha. Turns out John was lying on the grass for 10 minutes! Shame to all passers-by! He said he too proud to shout for help though. I told him his pride will kill him one day. There's more to this tale. And I'll probably start visiting this angmoh geriatric on Sundays. He's quite entertaining. 

Let’s Not Forget Who Sung It First!

I get a little miffed when some singers get credit for singing other people’s songs, especially when the original singers had done a great job in their own right. Here’s my list of five songs that deserve thanks and credit to their originators.

1. How Am I Supposed To Live Without You

Originally done by Laura Branigan, she unfortunately passed away too soon from a brain tumour. Her songs was magic with enough heartfelt emotion to render it a tearjerker. To usurp her glory comes big hair Michael Bolton who does a soppy version to seduce the lonely ladies. Urgh. Here’s Laura live. RIP. 

I have her Self Control single on vinyl btw.

2. The Power Of Love

Celine Dion took this partially operatic masterpiece off the charts and many people first appreciated her vocal prowess with this ballad. Kudos madamoiselle D, but it was Jennifer Rush who first took music monster to number 1 in the UK way back in 1985. 

Here are the Rush lungs of power, albeit in a strange video. 

3. Valerie

Amy Winehouse died too soon. She also drank way too much. In any case, she cleverly redid The Zutons’ quaintly slow rock Valerie into her signature runaway jazzier style. Both songs sound quite different but have the same vocal melody so everyone will recognise the tune regardless. I do feel there’s something apt yet refreshing about Dave McCabe’s vocals. 

The girl in the video looks a little like Amy no?

4. Venus

Who didn’t love Bananarama in the 80s? They first found massive fame with a song called Venus. “Oooh she’s got it, yeah baby, she’s got it”. Love it. However, the song is from a Dutch band Shocking Blue and first released, get this, in 1969! Summer Of Love! Free Love and hippie happiness. It even went to number 1 in the US, the first Dutch band to do so, high or otherwise. 

5. The Greatest Love Of All

I can’t diss Whitney. She did do a song called The Greatest Love Of All which is a cover of George Benson’s original, which doesn’t get played near enough. Black men can sing too, and not just rap or sound like Stevie Wonder or Louis Armstrong.

Here he is live at Montreaux Jazz Festival in 1986. 

Spotify links to the original artistes' versions below:

How Am I Supposed To Live Without You 

The Power Of Love

Valerie

Venus

The Greatest Love Of All

Short Tale - Is Your Child A Witch?

Adapted from real life events that took place over the weekend that sparked my imagination. 

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Suddenly C appears from nowhere and reaches for the bag of potato chips on the dining table. 

“Where did you come from?” I ask. 

Silence. “They’re hiding in the kitchen”, says K.

“Talk about stereotype”, I add. 

C tries to scoop a mound of chips into her hands.

“Why don’t you put them all into a bowl? Here”, I said handing over a grey plastic bowl Ikea made for kids to avoid making messes at dinner time. 

Ten-year-old C continues to be silent but obedient to the instruction. 

“What are you girls doing in the kitchen?”, I continue to pester the young C. 

“They’re in there in Y’s room, talking and eating,” K replies on behalf of the child. 

“Oooh, like little witches plotting mayhem”, I add. 

I get a glare and frown from C as she runs off with the bowl of crunchy snack into the out-of-sight kitchen. 

“They’ll all be holding the bowl together, hands touching the container, passing their witchy energies into the receptacle.”

“Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn and caldron bubble,” goes A.

“Right,” I continue, “They won’t know it but their magic will coalesce into the bowl and it will find lift. It will rise against gravity, ever so slowly but defiantly. They won’t realise it but their powers begin to present themselves. As the need for effort to hold the bowl evaporates, one of the ladies’ hand will move away inadvertently and the bowl will drop to the floor, the flow of sorcery broken. Their eyes will meet each others, no words spoken but a realisation that something beyond their physical selves had manifested across a PVC bowl of Lays. They knew then they were powerful.”

“One day, when C or A2 is mocked by a boy over something ridiculously childish like pimples or a stain on a uniform, the three shall gather by the school fence, Y on the outside. One of them will probably be sobbing, like C because she’s vain like that. In their need for comforting each other, they’ll hold hands, scolding and cursing the boy in question. Perhaps the whole male species may be maligned in their spitfire. Unbeknownst to them, their assemblage of emotions and hand holding will summon the invisible dark forces to do their instantaneous bidding. A tinge of red will glow in their eyes. “He’ll get this giant zit on his big fat nose that’ll burst at assembly period. Hahaha.” “Or he’ll get diarrhoea at PE when he’s far away from the toilet. Hee hee hee.” “Or maybe he’ll fall down the stairs and lose a tooth. Oooooh!”

“A yell and scream would be heard just then. C and A2 would turn around to face the school building while Y would stretch her neck and tip toe to see what had happened. Their hands would slip in their grip. C would only then notice how warm and red her hands were, unaware of how tightly they were latching on to one another. “You better go back,” Y will say, as if she was aware of events.”

“You’re horrible,” K remarks. 

“Hey man, witches. You never know when and where but men better look out,” I conclude. 

“What’s Y doing there?” A asks.

“They know when they need each other,” I reply, raising my eyebrows. 

"You're very imaginative," curious bystander and mother of two M says. 

"I don't have a job right now and K's given me another beer," I reply.