25 Aug 2007, ST
By Khoo How San
TODAY is 'Why? Day'. Never heard of it?
Never mind, you have xx hours left - depending on when you read this article and the main one by Dr Frank Starmer on this page - to go with the flow of your suppressed curiosity.
Let the child in you ask 'Why?' 'Why not?' 'How come?' 'What if?' 'But, but...' And let the child or kids in the family have their day, ergo, no question, no matter how wacky it seems to you, is to be dismissed out of hand today.
I like to believe that, like Dr Starmer, I have always been curious, and that I have had some role in my children's curiosity.
Eons ago, when I was a six-year-old, my dad finally got me a mechanical wristwatch (those were pre-digital days). Of course he conveniently failed to say where he bought it. But it impressed me: shockproof, waterproof, 17 jewels, automatic, it proudly declared on its faceplate.
Yes, I was curious - to see if it could be shocked. The good old very scientific drop test was initiated. Let's just say that after my experiment I still had a very accurate timepiece: it was very, very accurate twice a day.
Many, many years later, my own six-year-old daughter proved she had acquired my 'curiosity' genes.
We lived on the fifth storey of a five-storey walkup apartment block then, with a balcony where she would spend her weekend playtime. I bought her a battery-operated flying saucer toy, flashing lights and all.
Yes, she tested it. She reported very scientifically that it did not fly when, ahem, the drop test from the balcony was initiated. The good news for me is that she is still curious, and is a doctor training to be a scientist-clinician.
My other daughter is just as curious, in a more philosophical way. Once, we were on a holiday when she was three. At breakfast in San Francisco, we were served bao (Chinese buns). But the bao had a hole on top, presumably to let steam out.
She took a look at the bao in front of her and bawled, 'Who bit my bao?'
It was quite a scene as she was inconsolable. Someone chipped in: 'Look, everyone's bao has a hole in it.'
I would like to think it was her philosophical curiosity (from the particular to the general reasoning at work) that made her riposte: 'Who bit everybody's bao!'
She should be all right on her curiosity quotient (CQ). She has started university, reading philosophy, of course.
So, take the family out the rest of today, and together ask 'Why?' and so on. Look at road signs. Ponder over why a particular sign says 'Raised zebra crossing', yet has a drawing of a man crossing a street.
Recall those good old days when you studied, loved or hated science - and whether you crammed in useless formulae or learnt useful stuff like 'Which organ expands up to 10 times when excited?'
By the way, it's not what you think, you dirty-minded you. It's the pupil of the eye.
By Khoo How San
TODAY is 'Why? Day'. Never heard of it?
Never mind, you have xx hours left - depending on when you read this article and the main one by Dr Frank Starmer on this page - to go with the flow of your suppressed curiosity.
Let the child in you ask 'Why?' 'Why not?' 'How come?' 'What if?' 'But, but...' And let the child or kids in the family have their day, ergo, no question, no matter how wacky it seems to you, is to be dismissed out of hand today.
I like to believe that, like Dr Starmer, I have always been curious, and that I have had some role in my children's curiosity.
Eons ago, when I was a six-year-old, my dad finally got me a mechanical wristwatch (those were pre-digital days). Of course he conveniently failed to say where he bought it. But it impressed me: shockproof, waterproof, 17 jewels, automatic, it proudly declared on its faceplate.
Yes, I was curious - to see if it could be shocked. The good old very scientific drop test was initiated. Let's just say that after my experiment I still had a very accurate timepiece: it was very, very accurate twice a day.
Many, many years later, my own six-year-old daughter proved she had acquired my 'curiosity' genes.
We lived on the fifth storey of a five-storey walkup apartment block then, with a balcony where she would spend her weekend playtime. I bought her a battery-operated flying saucer toy, flashing lights and all.
Yes, she tested it. She reported very scientifically that it did not fly when, ahem, the drop test from the balcony was initiated. The good news for me is that she is still curious, and is a doctor training to be a scientist-clinician.
My other daughter is just as curious, in a more philosophical way. Once, we were on a holiday when she was three. At breakfast in San Francisco, we were served bao (Chinese buns). But the bao had a hole on top, presumably to let steam out.
She took a look at the bao in front of her and bawled, 'Who bit my bao?'
It was quite a scene as she was inconsolable. Someone chipped in: 'Look, everyone's bao has a hole in it.'
I would like to think it was her philosophical curiosity (from the particular to the general reasoning at work) that made her riposte: 'Who bit everybody's bao!'
She should be all right on her curiosity quotient (CQ). She has started university, reading philosophy, of course.
So, take the family out the rest of today, and together ask 'Why?' and so on. Look at road signs. Ponder over why a particular sign says 'Raised zebra crossing', yet has a drawing of a man crossing a street.
Recall those good old days when you studied, loved or hated science - and whether you crammed in useless formulae or learnt useful stuff like 'Which organ expands up to 10 times when excited?'
By the way, it's not what you think, you dirty-minded you. It's the pupil of the eye.
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