Me and My G-Shiok

by mrbrown@mrbrown.com

(Feel free to distribute for non-profit and non-commercial purposes but keep my byline, email address and URL intact please. Thanks)

I was looking at my Do List for the day and it said:

-Take afternoon nap
-Wash clothes
-Vacuum and mop floor
-Hang clothes
-Write about my new watch

I am proud to say that I have accomplished the first item. The rest are still on my KIV list. Since I do not want to feel like a total slob, I will try to do the last item.

I just bought this neat new watch. It has always been my dream to own one of these watches, ever since I saw my two (not gainfully-employed) younger brothers wearing these $150 macho timepieces. You may have heard of them, they are called Casio G-Shocks (the watches, not my brothers).

Mine, however, is not so costly. Mine only cost $19.90 at Metro. Mine, however, is not exactly a G-Shock either. It is a G-Shiok. This is in the same proud tradition of renowned brands like Calvin Kline, Guccoi and D&G (Diamond & Gold). I am not making these brands up. Now before you start saying that I am wearing a fake G-Shock, I will have you know it is not a fake G-Shock, but a genuine G-Shiok.

In fact I am making that name up, it does not even have a brand. It does have the same bulky plastic body and funky Velcro straps and big "G" button for the fancy blue Indiglo backlight. Even my brother was impressed that it cost less than the strap of his real G-Shock (he had to replace the strap because our new Jack Russell puppy chewed it up. Apparently, his G-Shock was not designed to be Jack-Russell-proof).

And I can testify that my G-Shiok looks and is every bit as good as a G-Shock. I even gave it a shock test. I took it up to the 12th floor of my flat and then looked at it and said, "I am having a sex change!". The G-Shiok just kept on working. Amazing.

In the course of admiring my newfound toy and pressing all the buttons and generally draining the battery by activating the cool blue backlight again and again (I kept hitting its G-spot), I started to reflect on why men liked these kinds of testosterone-laden watches.

I mean, watches are meant to tell time, period. So why do men pay these huge sums of money (equivalent to Indonesia's GDP, which is hard to pin down at this point due to their yo-yo currency woes) to buy a bulky watch that has 25 different functions (including one to determine the next lunar eclipse), 18 displays, 5 buttons, 3 straps, and that bulges on one's wrist like one of King Kong's bigger hemorrhoids?

According to my scientific analysis, I believe it has to do with The Macho Factor. This is a watch that compels you, no, grabs you by the throat and commands you to grab your crotch with your other hand while you look at it to see the time. It is That Macho. It is the kind of watch that compels normal men to sit with their legs wide wide open in MRT trains and public buses. You have to really live up to its machismo.

It is also the kind of watch that says you are the kind of studly guy who engages in dangerous life-threatening sports like free-style snowboarding (without the pot), skydiving (without the parachute) and bungee jumping (without the cord). Even though in real life, for exercise, you play chess and collect stamps.

The many different stopwatches and timers say that you are the kind of body-sculpting hunk who does weights at Ray Whaleson House of Fitness and Scantily-clad Women, in full view of Orchard Road shoppers, in that All-Glass Gym that looks like a Giant Fish Tank for Sweaty Bodies.

Having a state-of-the-art watch like this also tells the world that you have Mastery over Research and Technology. If you can also e-mail and come up with deep stuff that no one but you understands, like the Zig-Zag Theory of Economics, you may well be on your way to becoming a Finance Minister of a Southeast Asian country.

And finally, the price tag says you have too much money to spend and that you are easily impressed by digital watches with many gizmos.

The fact that the watch can survive an 85-storey death plunge, the kind where you are splattered all over the sidewalk, is part of its innate attraction. This is so that the Civil Defence people who are scraping your pancreas off the concrete can say, "Wah Lao! His watch still working, man. Is this guy macho or what?"

Of course the most important indicator that this is truly a macho watch is the fact that it has no instructions included. At least mine did not. I spent a long time figuring out the buttons and functions. Now I feel like a real man.

You can actually kill someone with this watch, I think. Try hitting someone with it the next time, I am sure your G-Shock will give him/her at least a mild brain hemorrhage. The resultant injury can even make normally sane people watch "Vidz", that local music video program where every week, VJ Annabelle Francis (VJ= Video Jockey for older, less-with-it readers) tries to flirt shamelessly with VJ Mark Richmond. Please note that "Annabelle Francis: VJ" should not to be confused with local porn star "Annabel Chong: Sex Goddess". For one thing, the latter has bigger assets.

I think that men need such loud watches because that is the only accessory they get to wear. Women can wear anything they like but men only have their watches, so we have to make the most of it.

And now I am part of this elite club of adrenaline-addicted maleness. Me and my $19.90 G-Shiok. I hope the watch is water-proof because now, I have to mop the floor or my wife will kill me when she gets home.

All fan mail and soft toys may be directed at mrbrown@mrbrown.com

Other writings may be found in the Website "BrownTown" at http://www.mrbrown.com