At first, it sounded a bit extreme. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized—it’s not really about war. It’s about something much closer to everyday life:
Not just war. It could be:
A power outage
A winter storm
A supply shortage
Even a temporary lockdown like we saw before
And that’s where the message becomes surprisingly down-to-earth.
💡 Gold Won’t Help You in the First 72 Hours
A Youtube video argues that in a real crisis, gold is almost useless—at least at the beginning.
Think about it. If:
There’s no electricity
No internet
Stores are closed
Transportation is disrupted
Then what matters most is not wealth… but survival basics.
You can’t eat gold.
You can’t drink gold.
You can’t use gold to stay warm.
It’s a blunt way of putting it—but it’s true.
🧭 So What Actually Matters?
The video mentions “three things,” but let me expand it in a practical, no-nonsense way—especially for people like us who value comfort, safety, and common sense.
1. Water (First priority, no debate)
You can survive weeks without food… but only a few days without water.
A simple idea:
Keep a few bottles at home
Rotate them regularly
Don’t overcomplicate it
This isn’t survivalist thinking—it’s just being sensible.
2. Food (Simple, not fancy)
Not gourmet meals. Just:
Easy-to-store
Easy-to-prepare
Familiar foods you actually like
Things like:
Canned food
Instant noodles
Crackers
Rice
The key is not quantity—it’s readiness.
3. Basic Power & Light
This is the one people underestimate.
When the lights go out:
A flashlight feels like a luxury
A charged phone becomes a lifeline
A simple power bank suddenly matters
You don’t need expensive gear. Just:
A flashlight
A power bank
Maybe a small radio
That’s already ahead of most people.
🤔 My Reflection (Grandpa Perspective)
At our age, we’ve lived through enough to know one thing:
👉 Big problems don’t arrive with warning.
But here’s the good news:
You don’t need to be extreme or paranoid.
You just need to be:
Calm
Practical
A little bit prepared
That’s all.
🌱 A Quiet Kind of Wisdom
This video may sound dramatic, but the takeaway is simple:
Real security is not what you own… it’s what you’re ready for.
And preparation doesn’t mean fear.
It means:
Taking care of yourself
Taking care of your family
Sleeping a little better at night
☕ Final Thought
Instead of asking:
“Should I buy gold?”
Maybe a better question is:
👉 “If something unexpected happens tomorrow, would I be okay for a few days?”
If the answer is “not really,” then start small.
One bottle of water.
One flashlight.
One step at a time.
There is something quietly meaningful about the early hours at the community centre.
People arrive, not in a rush, but with a calm sense of routine—each one carrying their own story.
A lady around my age speaks warmly about her travels. She writes regularly on Xiaohongshu, capturing moments from different places. When she talks about her journeys, there is a spark in her eyes—curiosity that never fades.
Nearby, a gentleman shares his love for cruising. He laughs and says that if he’s not at the centre, he is probably somewhere at sea. For him, the world is best explored one voyage at a time.
Some stand and chat while waiting to register. Their conversations are light, familiar, and unhurried. Others sit quietly, observing, resting, or simply enjoying a few peaceful moments before the day begins.
And then, a short conversation stayed with me.
Someone asked about my blog. He had been reading my posts and was curious—whether I had worked in artificial intelligence before retirement. It was an honest question.
I smiled and told him, no—I am simply a learner. A lifelong learner. The world around me is full of fascinating things, and I enjoy exploring them, understanding them, and sharing what I discover.
He seemed surprised, but also encouraged.
That brief exchange reminded me of something important:
learning does not belong to any age or profession. It belongs to anyone who stays curious.
Around us, people continued waiting—quietly, patiently, in good order.
Different people, different rhythms.
Yet in that shared space, there was a simple harmony.
Perhaps this is what makes these moments special.
Not just the activities, but the people—and the small, sincere connections we make along the way.
And as for me, I am grateful to be among them—still learning, still observing, still enjoying the journey.
At Nogi Sushi, we ordered six different bento boxes—beef, teriyaki chicken, sushi, tempura—each one a little different. It turned out to be a good decision. We shared, we tasted, and everyone found something they liked.
More importantly, everyone enjoyed the moment.
Before we left, I asked Ayden, “Shall we come back again?”
He gave me a big, confident yes.
That alone made the lunch worthwhile.
After the meal, while we were still chatting, Ayden asked me a simple question:
“Grandpa, what interesting thing did you do during March break?”
I paused for a second, then told him,
“I write blog posts every day. I actually have two blogs.”
He looked surprised—and curious.
He told me he had read a few of my older posts, including one about snow shovelling in winter. I smiled and said, “That was quite some time ago.” Then I showed him one of my more recent posts—about my old classmate, Philip Chan, who went from being mischievous in school to becoming a police superintendent and later a music producer.
Ayden read quietly.
Then he looked up and said, “Grandpa is writing well.”
That short sentence stayed with me.
Not because it was praise—but because of what it represents.
A 12-year-old boy, living in a fast-moving digital world, took the time to read his grandfather’s writing… and responded with sincerity.
That is not something to take lightly.
Later, I learned from Alison that Ayden actually writes quite well himself. Of course, like all young people, he still has plenty of room to improve.
But that is exactly where his potential lies.
And perhaps, in a very small and quiet way, I have found a new goal:
To help nurture his interest in writing.
Not by teaching.
Not by correcting.
But simply by continuing to write, to share, and to show him that writing can be meaningful, enjoyable, and worth doing.
What started as a simple family lunch at Nogi Sushi turned into something more.
A connection.
A moment of recognition.
And a small bridge between generations—built not with technology, but with words.
Final thought:
Sometimes, we write to remember.
Sometimes, we write to express.
But every now and then, without realizing it, we write for someone who is quietly beginning to read.
This morning, I came across two videos about James Wong Jim (黃霑).(黃湛森)
One showed him on stage—charismatic, confident, full of life.
The other told the story of how a “young master from Xiguan” grew into one of Hong Kong’s most iconic cultural figures.
As I watched, a quiet realization came over me—
I had seen this man long before the world knew his name.
Not on stage.
But on campus.
At La Salle College.
When I first joined La Salle, he was already in Form 5, later becoming the head prefect.
He was not the loudest or most attention-seeking student.
But there was something about him—something different.
Looking back now, after hearing people describe him as a “mad genius” or “eccentric talent,” I think that quality was already there.
Not loud.
But unmistakable.
He liked playing the harmonica.
That alone made him stand out.
On the sports field, while most students wore proper spike shoes, he would sometimes show up in simple kung fu shoes.
It didn’t feel like rebellion.
It felt like he simply didn’t care to follow the norm.
And then there was something even more memorable—
At times, he came to school wearing a traditional Chinese gown.
At that age, I didn’t understand it.
It just seemed unusual.
But now, I see it differently.
Perhaps even then, he was already expressing something deeper—
a connection to Chinese culture that would later define much of his work.
The documentary mentions his roots in Xiguan, Guangzhou, and how deeply he was influenced by traditional Chinese culture growing up.
That cultural foundation was not something he added later in life.
It was already part of him.
And suddenly, the small details I remembered—
the gown, the attitude, the individuality—
all made sense.
After graduation, he went on to study Chinese literature at The University of Hong Kong, and years later, he returned to earn a doctoral degree.
That, to me, is deeply impressive.
Many people have talent.
But not everyone has the discipline to return to scholarship after achieving success.
He did both.
His career went far beyond what any of us could have imagined back then.
In music, his lyrics and compositions influenced generations of Chinese people worldwide.
In advertising, his jingles became part of everyday life—memorable campaigns for brands like Rémy Martin and Marlboro.
From pop songs to children’s music, even Chinese-language creative work connected to Disney, his influence crossed borders and generations.
In many ways, his voice travelled wherever there were Chinese communities.
And yet, when I think of him today,
I don’t first think of the fame.
I remember a student.
A young man who:
played the harmonica
wore kung fu shoes on the field
occasionally dressed in a traditional gown
carried himself with a sense of individuality
Funny. Talented. Respectful.
People call him a “mad genius.”
And now, I understand why.
But that “madness” was not noise or arrogance.
It was something rarer—
the courage to be fully himself, from the very beginning.
Back then, he was simply a senior I noticed in passing.
I had no idea
that I was witnessing someone who would one day help shape the cultural voice of Hong Kong—and leave a lasting imprint on generations of Chinese people around the world.
Final Reflection
Sometimes, the people we meet in our youth
do not seem extraordinary at the time.
But years later, when we look back,
we realize—they were already becoming who they were meant to be.
Among his many grand and celebrated works, what stayed with me most was a simple children’s song ,世界真細小 written for young children and their parents, it carries a quiet warmth that goes beyond melody. It reminds me that true talent is not only measured by scale or fame, but by the ability to touch everyday life—softly, deeply, and across generations.
And then there are places we return to—for something deeper.
At Golden Horse Cafeteria, it started simply enough: good food, fair prices, and a comfortable setting. That day’s special—Hainan chicken with soup and tea—was, as always, excellent value.
But over time, something changed.
We no longer felt like customers.
We felt at home.
The waitresses recognize us. They greet us with familiar smiles. There is no rush, no pressure—just a quiet understanding that this is a place where people come not only to eat, but to pause.
And in return, we do something small.
At Christmas, a little gift.
During Chinese New Year, a lai see—just a token of appreciation.
Nothing extravagant. But meaningful.
And every time, their faces light up.
That moment—simple, genuine—is what I call joy.
An Unexpected Conversation
One day, while chatting briefly with a young waitress, the topic drifted to something unexpected: writing.
I mentioned that I use ChatGPT to help expand my blog posts. She smiled and said she uses it too—to improve her written English.
That caught my attention.
Here she was, working hard, serving customers—and at the same time, quietly trying to better herself.
I told her, “You can also use it to practice speaking.”
Her eyes widened a little.
We talked more. She shared how she writes sentences and asks ChatGPT to correct them. I suggested she try short daily conversations—just five minutes, like chatting with a friend.
She seemed genuinely excited.
It was a small exchange. But a meaningful one.
More Than a Meal
As I walked away that day, I realized something.
This was no longer just about food, or even about friendly service.
It was about connection.
A young person learning, improving, looking forward.
An older person sharing experience, offering encouragement.
No titles. No roles. Just two people, meeting in the middle.
A Thought to Take Home
In today’s fast-paced world, we often overlook these moments.
We chase better deals, newer places, faster service.
But sometimes, the richest experiences are found in familiar corners—where people remember your face, and where conversations happen naturally.
And sometimes, over a simple plate of Hainan chicken,
you don’t just enjoy a meal—
you share a little knowledge,
receive a little warmth,
and walk away with something that stays with you longer than the taste of food.
Recently, while browsing YouTube, I stumbled upon a video titled:
“Retirees who live better and better spend their time in these places.”
The message was simple but powerful.
As we grow older, we slowly realize that retirement is not really about money, but about time. When we were younger, time was scarce and money was necessary. After retirement, the situation reverses: many of us finally have time — but we must decide wisely how to use it.
The happiest retirees are not necessarily the richest ones.
They are simply the ones who invest their time wisely.
Here are a few places where I believe wise retirees spend their time.
1. Investing Time in Health
The first and most important place is health.
After seventy, health becomes our true wealth.
That does not mean extreme workouts or complicated programs.
Often, it simply means:
walking regularly
gentle stretching
light sports
maintaining a healthy diet
sleeping well
For example, my own routine sometimes includes walking in the mall, doing some light exercises for my calves and toes, and occasionally playing ping pong with friends.
Nothing dramatic.
But these small habits add up.
A healthy body allows us to enjoy every other part of life.
Without health, even the most beautiful travel plan becomes meaningless.
2. Spending Time with Good Companions
Another wise investment is friendship.
In retirement, social connection becomes extremely important. When we were working, colleagues filled that role. After retirement, we must create our own social circle.
For many seniors this might be:
morning coffee gatherings
community centre activities
ping pong or badminton groups
church or volunteer activities
The activity itself is not the main point.
The real value is human connection.
Conversation, laughter, and sharing stories keep our minds alive.
Sometimes we meet simply to chat. And honestly, those chats can be the most enjoyable part of the day.
3. Feeding the Mind
Retirement should never mean mental retirement.
Wise seniors keep learning.
This could include:
reading books
learning languages
writing blogs
studying history or philosophy
exploring technology
Personally, writing and exploring AI have become fascinating hobbies for me.
It is quite amazing: today a retired person can sit at home and discuss ideas with artificial intelligence, translate languages, research history, or write travel stories.
In earlier generations, this would have been unimaginable.
Keeping the brain active helps keep the spirit young.
4. Creating and Sharing
Another meaningful use of time is creating something and sharing it with others.
Many retirees simply consume content: TV, news, social media.
But there is a deeper joy in creating.
Writing a blog, recording travel stories, sharing experiences, helping others solve problems — these activities give life purpose.
For me, writing Grandpa Journey is not only about documenting life.
It is also about:
reflecting on experiences
sharing lessons with friends
leaving stories for the next generation
Sometimes a small story may resonate with someone unexpectedly.
That alone makes the effort worthwhile.
5. Protecting Peace of Mind
Another wise place retirees spend their time is protecting their inner peace.
At this stage of life, unnecessary stress is simply not worth it.
Wise retirees gradually learn to:
let go of arguments
reduce unnecessary obligations
avoid toxic relationships
focus on gratitude
Peace of mind is like a quiet garden.
It must be protected carefully.
6. Appreciating Simple Moments
Perhaps the most beautiful lesson of retirement is this:
Happiness often hides in ordinary moments.
A simple lunch.
A walk in the mall.
A conversation with a friend.
A quiet evening.
In younger years, we rush past these things.
In later years, we learn to notice them.
That awareness itself becomes a kind of wisdom.
A Personal Reflection
After watching that video, I asked myself the question it raised:
“Are you one of those retirees?”
I am not sure.
But I try.
Some days I walk.
Some days I write.
Some days I chat with friends.
Some days I simply observe life quietly.
Perhaps retirement success is not about doing extraordinary things.
Perhaps it is simply about spending ordinary days wisely.
And if we can do that, day after day,
then maybe we are already living a good retirement.
Grandpa Journey Reflection
Time is the most valuable currency of retirement.
Spend it on:
health
friendship
learning
creativity
peace of mind
Do that consistently, and life may quietly become better and better.
