BRAIN DRAIN

Just a couple of movies in this installment, from the three-odd hour flight each way to Singapore and back.

Dr. Seuss’ Horton Hears a Who! Quite nice, but I honestly expected more. Methinks the trailers led me to believe it would be a laugh-out-loud riot that would be fun for all ages, and instead what I found was a movie that was really geared more towards younger audiences. Which is not a bad thing really — though I didn’t much care for the non sequitur production number at the end. Oh! One thing I kept wondering about throughout the film was what it would’ve been like if Jim Carrey and Steve Carell had exchanged roles.

The Other Boleyn Girl. What a film! Yes, the drama is milked for all it’s worth, but I would say in keeping with the history upon which the story was based. Great performances all around: Natalie Portman was fantastic (and I’m not exactly a fan), Scarlett Johansen superb, and Eric Bana played the part of sexually obsessed English King (though that doesn’t seem like too much of an acting challenge, does it?). Also, is it just me or is Jim Sturgess quietly making his way into nearly every other movie out there? Ultimately, however, what I appreciated the most was that the film had the gravitas I felt was missing from Marie Antoinette, which if you think about is not that dissimilar a movie.

An impromptu installment of Random Travel Notes following last week’s business trip with my dad to Singapore. What? Didn’t know I was gone? For shame!

Return of the comeback. I hadn’t been in Singapore for six years since I was on Fellowship studying at Singapore Management University (SMU) back in 2002. The opportunity did present itself over the years (notwithstanding the fact I’d already been studying in New York), but something always seemed to get in the way. So it was rather neat to see how much the city-state has changed in the intervening years. Very progressive, indeed. It’s also worth noting that I received an unexpected surprise upon arrival: at the hotel where we were billeted, we were given a room with a view…of SMU’s new campus. Funny how the universe works.

Cannot understand, lah. Something I noticed after being away for so long: I now have a hard time understanding Singaporeans when they speak. However, this failure to communicate is selective. For instance, the accents of a good number of the people to whom I was newly introduced on this trip was fairly inscrutable to me without great effort to make sense of it on my part, yet I had little difficulty listening to my old Singaporean acquaintances when they spoke. Somewhere in between, however, was a Frenchman I’d met whose English was peppered with Singlish colloquialisms — a strange if not amusing mix.

Eavesdropper. Our Singapore schedule consisted of perhaps six to seven meetings in a day, which my memory appears to have coalesced into one big blur. One of these meetings stands out in my mind, however, because I distinctly remember some fellow seated across the way (this was a more casual affair arranged at a Starbucks location) discreetly listening in to what was being discussed. For the life of me I couldn’t tell whether this guy was eavesdropping by design or circumstance, but he sure was an involved listener, nodding and shaking his head to the points that were being brought up by our little party.

My mirror image. It’s no big secret that I’m learning the ropes from my dad whenever I’m not busy studying. As much fun as this can be it can be an exercise in frustration at times, especially when I sit in meetings where people can tell immediately that I’m too much of a greenhorn to really matter in the discussion. During this trip I got to see this for myself from across the table: one of the groups that we had a chance to meet was represented by a duo comprised of one fairly elderly gentleman and a much younger one. The former was introduced as the adviser to the latter, whom we were told had inherited the company from his father. The sight of them seemed so familiar, and I wondered almost immediately if that’s what I look like whenever I accompany my dad to his meetings.

Taking a toll. One of the burning issues that made headlines in Singapore during our visit was the government’s plan to increase the toll fees (ERP) for vehicles heading to the central business district, extending the times within which these tolls would be in effect and increasing the number of gantries around the city that automatically debit these tolls. A few of my friends were positively incensed about this, and during a friendly discussion about this I pointed out that a.) they didn’t really drive on a regular basis and b.) at least they could see that the toll fees were being put to good use. And then I had an experience that made me understand why this was such a hot topic. On the morning of our departure we had an early meeting scheduled and took a taxi in order to make the appointment. For this, I paid S$5. An hour later, we took another taxi to bring us back to our hotel in order to check out. While the distance was probably the same, this time the cab fare was around S$11. The difference was the ERP, which hadn’t yet kicked in when we left for the meeting.

Friendly Filipino service. It was hard not to notice that a lot of the service personnel at the different hotels and restaurants we visited were staffed by Filipinos. To our delight, many of these were much more adept at their craft than their non-Filipino colleagues. Personally, I think it’s great that these people find opportunities for themselves overseas, even if the unintended consequence is for less adept workers to be left behind in the Philippines (speaking anecdotally, of course).

Being young is getting old. I’m fairly used to being introduced as my father’s son during business engagements, and the one reaction that’s begun to get tiresome from my perspective involves remarks about my age. When I was younger (and lighter!) I could understand why some people thought I was still in high school. Now, years (and pounds!) later, I’m still on the receiving end of the same remarks. Sure, I understand that this is just the way that some people try to be polite…but I could do without it.

COTF. The reason I ended up coming along on this trip was to see Singapore’s Classroom of the Future, an initiative housed in the country’s National Institute of Education. It did not disappoint. Overall, it’s a concept learning environment composed of technologies already available in the market today and is truly a sight to behold. In my opinion, the entire thing had a Star Trek feel to it that was really quite fun. It’s my understanding that there’s already a School of the Future in the works as well, and if this classroom was anything to go by that should be quite a sight to behold as well. However, I could not help but feel a tinge of sadness that the program itself (and most of the software) was sponsored by Microsoft, impressive as it was.

Bling, bling. Is it my imagination, or do Singaporean girls like to dress up on a night out? Granted, we spent most of our time in the central business district, so the crowd was more uppity than usual. At the same time, I’m compelled to wonder whether any of these fashionably clad women were actually working girls. Granted, it’s uncharitable to think such things, but seeing some of the characters they were fawning over, it wouldn’t surprise me in the least.

Unglamorous. The trip was over so quickly it was hard to imagine that we’d been in Singapore at all for most of the week. In retrospect we hardly spent anytime outside the immediate environs of our hotel, which was a pity given the different things happening in the city at the time (e.g., CommunicAsia 2008 and the Great Singapore Sale). I imagine that the experience is much the same, if not more so, for the frequent business traveler. This is something I’ll keep in mind the next time I encounter some idiot that puts on airs because they travel a lot on business: that they probably spend more time toiling away in hotel lobbies instead of living it up in style.

An extended edition of the movies I caught in the air (but not in theaters!), owing to flights from New York to San Francisco and thereafter San Francisco to Manila.

Alvin and the Chipmunks. Surprisingly, not too bad. From the get-go one would expect this to be a train wreck in the making, but it’s actually quite entertaining. Of course, one shouldn’t expect much from the film. Having said that, it’s a fairly linear and predictable plot that nonetheless delivers a serviceable story for its eponymous characters.

August Rush. I concede that this isn’t a film for everyone, but I absolutely loved it. The story itself is rather thin, particularly towards the end, but to focus on the plot details alone is to miss the point completely. The allure of the film lies in the near seamless way that the music is integrated into the storytelling. Indeed, I would say that the way this comes together early in the film is a powerful hook, whereafter audiences are compelled to see the film through to the end. Stellar performances from the cast — Freddie Highmore, Jonathan Rhys-Meyers, Robin Williams and the ever beautiful Kerri Russel — also make for a compelling reason to check this one out.

The Bucket List. This is a Rob Reiner film at its best. The star power alone is a huge draw for this one, and indeed half the fun lies in waiting to see whether Morgan Freeman will be able to upstage Jack Nicholson, and vice versa. While the story arguably goes on a little longer than it should, this is one film that is very satisfying up to the very end.

Charlie Wilson’s War. While I am a sucker for Aaron Sorkin’s work, this one felt a little disjointed. It does take a while for the story to develop, after which it becomes quite engrossing. Yet I can’t help but feel that the stars were miscast and underutilized. Julia Roberts’ performance, for instance, fell flat with me, and overall I felt that the title role would have better suited Tom Hanks in his younger days. On the other hand, this was yet another film where Amy Adams shines (despite the small role she played). But the one who really stole the show was Philip Seymour Hoffman. His portrayal of a CIA spook was just spot on.

Cloverfield. An utter waste of time, in my opinion. Sure, the “Blair Witch meets Alien Invasion” concept is fairly interesting, but despite the amazing CGI work the film fails completely in the “suspend your disbelief” category, even for a sci-fi flick. Between characters that act thoroughly juvenile and a camera whose battery never runs out, this was one thoroughly exasperating viewing experience I’d rather forget.

Dan in Real Life. A charmer, to be sure. It’s very engaging and the chemistry between actors Steve Carrel, Dane Cooke and Juliette Binoche is a lot of fun to watch. For some reason, I feel this is a film along the same vein as Little Miss Sunshine and Sideways, albeit one that would appeal to a wider audience (given that between the three, it’s the one I’ve enjoyed the most). Also, as a vehicle for Steve Carrel it certainly showcases the extent of his acting ability, which is simply amazing.

I Am Legend. Not too bad, but not exactly great either. That Will Smith puts a lot into the title role almost makes up for the simple (and borderline weak) story that surrounds the film. For my part, however, what made the film hard to enjoy in retrospect was how about half was almost entirely about the relationship between a man and his dog. Granted, that’s not the most flattering way to describe the movie, but anyone who’s seen it will know what I mean.

Jumper. In spite of myself, I enjoyed this one. It’s a fairly straightforward sci-fi/action-adventure romp, and one that pushes all the right buttons for instant gratification (entertainment-wise). If anything, it’s made me a believer again in Hayden Christensen after those terrible Star Wars prequels. I do wish, though, that Diane Lane had a bigger role to play. Just because.

Rambo. I caught the most recent installment of Rocky on a flight, so I jumped at the opportunity to catch this Sylvester Stallone franchise. Granted, I’m more familiar with the backstory of Rocky (and much prefer it) compared to Rambo, but this was by no means a disappointment. If anything, I was taken aback by the level of violence in the film, which I suppose was more realistic given the special effect available to today.

Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story. Sure, I get it. It parodies biopics such as Walk the Line without trying to be out and out ridiculous (a la The Naked Gun for cop shows and Scary Movie for horror-thrillers). And yes, I think it’s about damn time that someone stuck their neck out to make such a film: as Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz demonstrate, when done well such movies can truly shine. This one was forgettable, I’d even go so far as to say it was downright boring. Of course, I knew that even before taking the plunge, but I didn’t realize it would be this bad. I am compelled to wonder where John C. Reilly’s career is headed. The guy’s got talent, but after Talladega Nights and this one, I fear his reputation may never recover.

This special edition of Random Travel Notes is packed with bonus content and deleted scenes!

Almost Left Behind. This is how I nearly missed my flight to San Francisco: First, because it was raining on the morning I was bound to leave, there were more commuters in the subway system than there normally would be otherwise. Second, because I had to make my way to the airport during the morning rush hour (a first for me), it slipped my mind that all the escalators at my usual subway stop would be ascending, leaving me scrambling for another entrance where I wouldn’t have to drag my luggage down a flight of stairs. This took the better part of fifteen minutes, which seriously impeded my ability to get to the airport the requisite hour before departure. Anyway I got to the airport with exactly that much time to spare…only to realize that my terminal was at the end of the Airtrain route and that my flight was departing from the farthest gate in the terminal. Fortunately, a kind airline staffmember let me jump the line, check in and run for my flight, so all’s well that ended well.

Deleted Scene! Wet Pants. Right before departure, I thought I’d get lucky and have no one seat beside me for the entire length of the trip (as if actually making the flight wasn’t lucky enough). Yet at the last minute the flight attendant allowed a girl from several rows behind to occupy the empty seat to my right. It wasn’t a big deal…until she spilled her glass of water all over me. Ordinarily I wouldn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but she was clearly one of those hoity-toity types that like to put on airs so I made sure to use the incident to put her in her place (I’m mean, I know). So for the next six hours she was well behaved, something worth the discomfort of damp pants, in my opinion.

Clean Apartment. This was the first time I’d arrived on my own at my parent’s apartment in San Francisco, so I promised them I’d clean up before they got there. Even then, I was simply astounded at how clean and orderly the place was compared to the one I stay at in New York. In part, it’s more than just the usual mess one might expect from a bachelor living on its own (though I make no claims to being the most orderly of people): my parents have had the apartment since the building was put up and have kept it well, for which reason it has a certain shine to it that’s missing from the one I rent. In any event, it was a strong reminder that I have much to improve on in the area of keeping things in order, as if my mom hasn’t reminded me enough to this very day.

Bonus Commentary! Empty Apartments Are Haunting. In general, I have no qualms about living on my own. But I’ve come to notice that it can be haunting in its own way. For instance, whenever I shuttle back to New York from Manila, it can be a jarring experience — even if only for a while — coming from a situation where I interface with friends and family on a hourly basis. But the trip to San Francisco was more telling: staying in that apartment all alone felt eerie, in large part because I’m usually there with brother and parents in tow but so happened to be by myself for a couple of days.

Yellow Lights. Being the designated driver of the family while in California, I took the wheel almost exclusively during this vacation season. Barely a couple of days driving around, however, I noticed that I was beating yellow light after yellow light with unusual consistency. Not that I ever did so recklessly (it’s not my fault the light would turn yellow when it did!), but I did find this both unusual and somewhat troubling, being of the “slow down” and not “speed up” school of thought.

Bonus Scene! Adobo Nation. We were off to lunch at a Filipino restaurant in the Bay Area only to find that there was a camera crew from ABS-CBN’s Filipino Channel on hand doing a feature on lechon (suckling pig) for a spot on their upcoming show, Adobo Nation. Because of the occasion, everyone dining at the time were treated to free lechon in exchange for being “interviewed” about their thoughts on the dish. As no one at our table wanted to appear on camera, my dad and I took one for the team and agreed to the interview. So if anyone sees me on TV in San Francisco sharing my preferences regarding lechon this would be why. My dad however, had the best line of the day: asked by the obviously half-prepared reporter about what color he looks for in lechon, he replied “The color of lechon, of course!”

Deleted Scene! Heavy. I suppose it goes without saying that I inadvertently packed on the pounds during this trip. Couldn’t help it! With my parents around, I was always well fed. And no, this has nothing to do with the prior paragraph (or so I would want to believe).

Prescription Required. Because of my unrequited obsession over glasses, I found myself at an optical shop where a pair of frames caught my attention. It wasn’t quite the pair I passed on in New York, but it was of a similar style and the price was reasonable. Yet when I decided to take the plunge and buy it, there was a hiccup. According to the saleslady, they couldn’t just match the lenses of my existing pair; they needed the actual prescription from my doctor. Of course I didn’t have it on me: I typically just walk into the usual optical shop in Manila and have them pull up my file whenever I need a new pair. More, not even the little card I usually carry around which contains the details of my prescription — which accompanied the last pair I had made — would do. State law, I was told. So once again I had to pass on another pair of glasses, but not before my brother observantly pointed out, “State law? What the hell crime can you commit with the wrong pair of glasses?”

Deleted Scene! Spare Cases. Later in the trip, at a different optical shop, I found the pair of lenses that set these events into motion. This time, though, I had a coupon that made it a good deal (inclusive of an eye exam so I could get a prescription). So I took the plunge and had the lenses made. However, I made a mistake with my choice of lenses and had to go back the next day to have them replaced. When I did, I brought the original case it came with, thinking that it would be easier if this transaction were treated as a return (incidentally, I was probably given the wrong case — it was white and probably meant for ladies’ frames — but I actually quite like it). I was right, but the person attending to me just took the frame and told me to keep the case. When I came back to claim the “replacement” pair, the folks at the store bundled it together with another case. So in the end I ended up with two different cases for my pair of glasses; not such a bad deal, considering I have another pair of Oakleys lying around the house that could use a sturdy metal case.

Out of the Loop. For the better part of the month, we had only partial internet access. “Partial” because I managed to find an open wireless network I could piggyback on (with much difficulty) near our place, though this only allowed me to receive emails but not send any via my mail client. Overall, it worked well enough, but since my dad had all his work-related emails forwarded to my email address, it wasn’t long before I noticed that I hardly received any email traffic versus the two or three a day he’d have to attend to. Which made me feel quite insignificant, actually. Just saying, is all.

Hot, Hot, Hot. It was just our luck that on two very hot days in California, the apartment’s airconditioner went on the fritz. Actually, in the ten-odd years we’ve been going there we’ve had bad luck with that air-conditioner in some shape or form. Or rather, we’ve had terrible luck with the blokes we call in to fix it. If memory serves, one had no idea what to do (and charged us all the same for just that information) and another replaced the control mechanism for it yet didn’t leave us with a manual to learn how to work it. This time around, though, we were fairly lucky in that the Joe we called in to fix it was able to do so and didn’t screw us over in the process. Oh, and when I say “Joe” I’m being literal: that was his name, which for some reason I continue to find amusing.

Bonus Scene! Oil Change. The van we use needed was in dire need of an oil change, and naturally I was the one who had to take it in. Since I don’t usually deal with such things back home — there’s always someone around to take care of it — this was something of a big deal for me, more so since I don’t know much about cars other than how to drive them. Imagine my surprise when, at the nearby Jiffy Lube, the mechanic who ended up working on the car was a woman around my age. Suffice it to say that made me feel really pathetic…because I probably am!

Lake Tahoe! Since we were in San Francisco for so long, we decided to take a side trip to Lake Tahoe. The plan was to stay overnight. Due to some miscommunication, we learned when we got there that our hotel reservation got cancelled, which was just as well since the place we’d booked in turned out to be a real dive. As a result, we ended up finding accommodations at a much newer resort, where we were informed that we could get a complimentary night’s stay if we sat through a ninety-minute presentation about their time-share program (yes, it was one of those places). There being nothing to lose, my parents decided to take up the offer…and ended up investing in one time-share. To hear my dad tell it, the deal was a good one, although there is a part of me that can’t help but point out that it was quite a price to pay for a free night’s stay.

Disaster! Crisis! Calamity!. I’ve written before about how it seems that interesting things happen in New York while I’m not around. It would seem that this is a family affliction. While cooling our heels in San Francisco, there was a cyclone in Myanmar, Fires in Florida, an earthquake in China, not to mention a probe that’s made its way to Mars. There’s a joke in here somewhere, and it’s probably at our expense.

Champions League 2008. For the second year in a row, I got an opportunity to catch the Champion’s League final. In fact, I made it a point that we stayed in on the date so my brother and I could watch it. It was certainly much better than last year’s tie between Liverpool and Milan, yet I couldn’t quite enjoy it as much. Happy as I am that United took the silverware, and despite my dislike of Chelsea, seeing John Terry quite literally slip up and cost his team the match was just heartbreaking.

Flying with Family…Or Not. I was all set to write about how it’s been a while since the four of us have been able to fly together on a trip, and how much more convenient it is to do so. But at the last minute, as we were waiting for our flight home to board, I got called up and my ticket upgraded to first class. I offered it to my parents, but they weren’t interested, so I availed of the privilege myself. Truth be told it wasn’t much different from the Business Class seat I would have otherwise taken, but the peace and quiet it did afford was rather precious. For some reason, however, I ended up feeling queasy throughout the flight. I hope that doesn’t mean I’m just not meant to live it up!

Partying hard can lead to a hangover. Quite similarly, vacationing hard can lead to fatigue — if not the overwhelming feeling that it’ll take another vacation just to get over the one that’s just finished.

Which is all for the best, really. In broad strokes, it’s a telling sign that the time off (and away) has served its purpose, affording the opportunity to recharge one’s batteries just enough so as to be raring to get back in the swing of things. And boy am I ever! Easily, the past month the family spent together was the longest we’ve stayed in one place for quite some time, as well as the most “normal” in the sense that it was more “change of pace” versus the more touristy jaunts we’ve been on more recently. Good times, for sure, but it feels just as good to be back.

With that, we now return to regularly scheduled programming…as soon as I get my wits together to write something (anything!) worth reading.

Second of Three Parts: Random Pictures

Alas, I didn’t have a right and proper camera with me at the Comic Con — not that I’m any good as a photographer — so I had to settle for using the one built into my celphone. As a result, the pictures below tend to be a bit dodgy (I had a few more, but they weren’t much better) but they’re good enough for a meager post by way of photoblogging.

Manhattan’s Jacob Javits Center is a pretty big place, so the Comic Con had multiple entrances, all of which were decked out as above. I couldn’t find a vantage point from which I could take a shot of the show floor for some perspective, but the lights in this picture should give some indication of the size of the exhibition area.

Even before entering the show floor there were comic book paraphernalia around. Naturally, these were popular for the token souvenir photo, especially the life-size superhero statues such as Batman’s (see below; there was also one of the Man of Steel, but it wasn’t nearly as awesome).

One thing I did expect to see were people dressed up as Jedi or Stormtroopers or any number of Star Wars characters (I’m pretty sure there was a Wookie or two in attendance as well). So none of that surprised me. But I was quite impressed by these detailed statues of Yoda and Princess Leia.

Sure, they might not look like anything special (especially that blurry photo), but I happen to like mock-ups of cartoon characters, especially when they’re done this well.

Previously, I mentioned that there were a few video game companies present in full force. Naturally, this created many opportunities for cross-promotion, such as the way that Konami was drumming up publicity for their new Hellboy game, The Science of Evil. Others, were there just to sell video-game related paraphernalia, such as Square-Enix.

While I’m aware that the above are probably the worst photos in the history of bad photos, there was no way to get a shot of the entire Konami booth without a wide-angle lens. As for the Squeenix booth, this is what their booth looked like from the side. The decor was very minimal, and their display of Final Fantasy and Kingdom Hearts figurines (among others) ended up buried behind throngs of onlooking fans. All the same, I’m sure my brother would’ve loved to have been there to check out the Squeenix offerings for himself.

Speaking of things my brother missed out on, there was a significant amount of anime and manga at the convention. Indeed, if there was one booth he would’ve wanted to browse through had he been around, I’m guessing it would have been Tokyopop’s.

It should be noted that Viz Media was also around, but I didn’t have the time to check out their manga lounge.

Still, there was no denying that mainstream Western comics took center stage at the convention, especially because it offered the opportunity for fans to meet some of their favorite artists and writers . Going once around the show floor I managed to see quite a few, such as…

…Mark Texiera, whom I remember for his work on Ghost Rider…

…Inker Scott Hanna…

…John Romita Sr. and Jr, here pictured during a signing event at the Marvel booth (the line for which was impossibly long!)…

…Tom Raney (at least I think this is Tom Raney)…

…Steve Epting…

…and Mark Buckingham, although this is as close as I ever came to meeting the guy. In fact, for a brief moment I contemplated swiping the handwritten note on the premise that he had written it…but that wouldn’t be right, would it?

And yes, because the NY Comic Con is a big deal among fan circles, it enjoyed extensive coverage from the usual industry news outfits.

Of course, collectors of all persuasions had much to look forward to in the form of comics, comics and more comics!

Naturally, there were huge discounts to be had all over. What’s more, some bargain stalls were selling really old comics for dimes, by far the cheapest deals in town.

Sure, some of the merchandise available for purchase had very little to do with comics (Webkinz?), but at least it ensured that even kids not entirely sold on comics could look forward to something. As for older patrons, there was no shortage of things to vie for their attention. Take for instance the exhibition staff: interestingly, a lot of those working the show floors for the organizers were actually volunteers, many of whom traipsed about dressed in some costume or other. This brings me to the final photo of this post, and the tongue-in-cheek remark I can’t resist to make:

Princess Leia’s slave girl outfit. Teasing adolescent fantasies since 1983.

‘Nuff said.

(Previously: Impressions. Next: The Souvenir)

First of Three Parts: Impressions

This past April 18-20, 2008, the Jacob Javits Center hosted the 2008 New York Comic Con, one of the largest comic book conventions in the United States. For once, I found myself without any excuse not to go, so I jumped at the chance to check it out. It certainly lived up to my expectations — then exceeded them.

Upon arriving at the convention center I already knew it was going to be quite the spectacle. Comic book enthusiasts were there in droves, some literally dressed for the occasion as their favorite character, most bubbling with excitement at what “schwag” and freebies lay ahead of them. This was just at the entrance, with long lines of eager attendees waiting patiently and politely to pick up their tickets. Fortunately, I decided to purchase my ticket (good for all of Saturday) beforehand at Midtown Comics, and thus made my way through to the exhibition floor without a care in the world.

It goes without saying that the sight before me was everything a comic book aficionado could hope for, whether casual collector or die-hard fan. Rows upon rows upon columns upon aisles of booths, all of which showcased something — anything! — related to comics. Marvel and DC were there, side by side with independent and smaller publishers. Retailers in attendance displayed signs prominently advertising huge discounts on their wares. There were “boutique stalls” selling rare comics from the Golden and Silver Ages that nostalgic completists may be willing to die for, not to mention merchandisers peddling figurines, t-shirts and all manner of paraphernalia so fans could go home awash in nifty souvenirs. And yes, there were a couple of video game studios and collectible card game companies in attendance, too, showcasing their latest offerings and giving passersby free reign to try them out.

There was no shortage of things to do either, and I’m not talking about the requisite shopping involved or the organized group photo opportunity for all Jedi in attendance (for real). Throughout each day there were any number of film showings, panel discussions or promotional appearances going on, certainly enough to whet any fan’s appetite. More importantly, there were chances aplenty to meet the legends and rising stars of the industry. In the three-odd hours I was there I couldn’t believe the personalities I espied in attendance. Mark Buckingham. Darwin Cooke. Geoff Johns. John Romita (both father and son). Jim Steranko. Gail Simone. Steve Epting. The list goes on and on.

I think what I will always remember from this experience is how it made me feel like I did when I discovered comic books for the first time. Sure, I’ve never gone out on a limb to attend a convention before (the opportunity hardly ever presenting itself back home), but something really was in the air that captured the excitement I remember from when I started getting interested in comics, losing myself in the colored panels and letting my imagination take off. In this I was just another face in the crowd, but one in which I felt quite at home, lightsabers, capes and cowls notwithstanding. In retrospect this is perhaps what such conventions are truly about: giving people a chance to celebrate their shared interest — if only for a day or two — and experience the joy of discovering those colored panels for the very first time, again and again.

(Next: Random Pictures)

Here’s a picture of the neo-Business class cabin configuration I encountered on this most recent overseas trip. It’s not the best of photos, taken discreetly from my seat using a camera phone, but it’s good enough for illustrative purposes.

Obviously, the seats are arranged at an angle to the aisle (including the seats by the cabin walls). Effectively, this kills at the very least an entire column of seats for the airline, which is why I’m not overly surprised if these aircraft are only used for short-haul flights where the revenue impact isn’t as severe. Objectively, the seats themselves are really something: they’re comfortable, have a set footrest that “merges” with the extendable legrest, and come with a relatively large stowable table and a pull-out widescreen 16:9 video monitor. However, they are designed to give each passenger their privacy, which can be alienating (or problematic) for those traveling with others. This much I’ve seen firsthand, as on my flight there was a group traveling with an elderly family member that required continued assistance, which would have been much easier to arrange with more conventional seating.

Of course, the obvious objection to be raised in terms of the aesthetics is that these seats more and more resemble office cubicles, albeit relatively luxurious ones. Could this be a case of taking the “business class” label a little bit too far?

Here’s another installment of pellet reviews for movies I watched on the trip yet hadn’t seen in theaters:

Bee Movie. For what it is, it’s entertaining enough. Jerry Seinfeld is still funny, cameos by Sting and Ray Liotta are a hoot (though probably lost on younger audiences), and there’s a lot of novelty brought about by looking at the world from a Bee’s point of view. However, the movie’s general premise falls somewhat flat, perhaps in an attempt to distinguish it from A Bug’s Life. No doubt a great film for kids, especially in light of the “moral lessons” tied into the plot; yet this is another Dreamworks offering that falls short of the magic that Pixar is capable of, albeit not by much.

Enchanted. In spite of myself, I must say that this was pleasantly entertaining. Yes, it pulls off the whole animation-real world crossover concept fairly well. Yes, the digs at the “Disney Princess” archetype are spot on and hilarious. But this movie belongs almost completely to Amy Adams, who proves not just her talent but her star power. Oh, and need I mention that James Marsden and Timothy Spall are the splitting image of their animated selves? Geektasticness!

Juno. The reason this film received so much critical buzz? It’s amazing! Everything about it just works: the cast, the screenplay, the soundtrack…I could go on and on (did I mention the soundtrack?). Early into it one gets the feeling that the film could go south very quickly, what with the touchy theme of teen pregnancy, but once it crosses that rubicon it becomes completely engrossing and never lets up. Brilliant and charming, this one’s a must see. And yes, Ellen Page more than deserved her Oscar nomination for the title performance.

Michael Clayton. Sure it’s a good movie, but it comes across as a rather complicated way to tell an otherwise interesting story about corporate greed and ethics. It feels at times that the director and screenwriter don’t care if audiences are able to follow along. Notwithstanding this, everything else about the film cries out to be noticed. George Clooney is still the man — although I personally found it disappointing that it’s only at the very end that viewers are treated to a glimpse of why the Michael Clayton character is someone to be feared — and the entire cast has a solid go at it. Personally, however, I think it was Tom Wilkinson’s portrayal of the mentally unhinged lawyer at the center of the plot that really steals the show.

So there it is: four movies across over around twenty hours in transit. There would have been at least one or two more (for the record, I kept nodding off midway through No Country for Old Men), but the need to reset my body clock in mid-journey was more pressing than my desire to remain entertained.

With one more trip across the Pacific under my belt, and the accompanying jet lag and distractions behind me, it’s time for another round of Random Travel Notes!

Unleft behind. Because my parents were away on business and my brother off at school, no one was around to see meoff on my trip. No big deal, really: it just meant that I was responsible for locking up the house and putting things in order before leaving. When I got to the airport, and was about to go through the first security screening, I found I’d accidentally brought along with me something I was intending to leave behind: car keys. It’s a good thing that my ride was still in the area and I was able to send the keys back home, otherwise I would have found myself in New York with car keys but no car — and my parents with a car but no keys.

Can there be anything worse than Philippine immigration? Seriously! It amazes me to this day that no one has figured out how much more efficient it would be to have a single line for all counters than a separate line for each. Further, I still can’t understand why I have the uncanny ability to end up on the slowest line available without fail. Then again, I suppose one can’t really blame the immigration officers for working painfully slow: it must really be a terrible existence to be reduced to an unthinking passport stamping machine of the Man with a Hoe variety.

A tale of two 747s. My trip was divided into two legs: one from Manila to Hong Kong, and a connecting flight from Hong Kong to New York. It turned out that both were being serviced by a Boeing 747-400. For the first flight, I was surprised to find that the plane was relatively new, with a business class cabin whose chairs were arranged in a very modern diagonal fashion vis-a-vis the aisle in order to give each passenger more privacy. Most passengers seemed to be pleasantly surprised by this, as several started whipping out their cameras just to take a picture. For my part, just seeing the cabin made me wish that this were the plane for the long haul journey, convinced as I was that I’d end up with an older aircraft. True enough, the connecting flight made use of just such an aircraft, though I was fortunate enough not to have a seatmate all the way through to New York (a first in the three years I’ve been at this). So I suppose this tallies as a win on the scoreboard for me no matter how one looks at it.

Intruder Alert! Since no one sat beside me for the longer part of the journey, I used the empty seat as a repository for some of my things. However, sometime in mid-flight something unusual occurred that made me pack up and secure my things. I’d nodded off, but at some point was roused when I felt that there someone was encroaching on my space. It was a middle-aged Chinese woman trying to take the seat. I was still coming to my senses and my first reaction was to vacate the seat for her, thinking, at the time, that the flight attendant may have offered the seat to her. But once seated she started acting strangely. She shook me awake and began gesticulating so as to ask how to manipulate the seat. I did, bewildered, for which reason she started thanking me over and over again. Only then did some flight attendants come by, speak to her in Chinese, usher her out of the cabin, and apologize profusely for the disturbance. I don’t know if the woman was just trying to score a better seat or if she had anything less forthcoming planned, but it’s a good enough reminder to remain vigilant over one’s things while travelling.

Glocal advertising. Lately, Gilette has engaged Tiger Woods, Roger Federer and Thierry Henry as champions for the company’s line of razors. because I follow these things, I’m quite familiar with the three icons and know that they are top athletes in their respective sports. Yet even I take for granted how marketing global brands with global personalities still requires fine tuning to local tastes. When the ads first came out in the US, it was plain to see how Federer and Woods were featured more prominently than Henry, someone who may even be nigh unrecognizable in the United States where football (soccer) is a second-class professional sport at best. Yet at the Hong Kong airport, which is presumably more attuned to the football scene, I noticed that a fair number Gilette billboards placed Henry front and center instead.

Haywire. These past three years, each time I’ve been on a flight with a personal video entertainment system I’ve had the misfortune of mine going momentarily haywire at some point during the flight. It happened again on this trip (which is why I bring it up), but certainly not as bad as that one time my fiddling with the remote caused my screen to freeze up — and thereafter the entire section of seats where I’d been sitting (I kid not). The only interesting thing to come out of all this is that I’ve found out that these systems make use of Linux as their OS (or at least Cathay Pacific’s does).

Fitting the profile. Speaking of “things that happen to me without fail on these trips”, I’ve also noticed I have a knack for being singled out as the passenger the flight attendants will ask to fill out a customer feedback form. I haven’t figured out why. Could it be because I make an effort to be rather polite to them when they see to me? Do I just happen to look like a gullible sap who’d fill out the form favorably? Or is there something about people traveling alone, seemingly without much to do, that flight attendants gravitate towards for these things?