Singapore Armed Forces Day tribute

Musings from Dennis #290. “Hang on, Dennis.” I heard a familiar voice call out just as I was stepping away from the Camp Headquarters, having completed my final discharge documentation from National Service in June 1982. I was about to turn 21, closing a 30‑month chapter of mandatory service every son of Singapore undertakes.

Turning around, I was surprised to see my Officer Commanding, Lieutenant (later Captain) Lee Seng Yam, coming after me. As OC, he oversaw our entire company - platoon officers reported to him, while we platoon sergeants reported to our own officers. I had no direct working relationship with him beyond observing his steady rise through the ranks.

He handed me a folded sheet.

“I wanted to give you this, which I typed myself,” he said. “I had to use this last letterhead - it already had creases at the top, unfortunately - but I hope you can accept it.”

It was a testimonial, written entirely on his own initiative. Soldiers never expected such gestures; we were simply issued certificates of completion. His kindness left me deeply moved.

“I wish you all the best for your future, Dennis.”

“Thank you, Sir. I really appreciate it.”

That was the last time I saw him as I walked out of camp and into civilian life.

This 1 July 2026, Singapore Armed Forces Day, I think of him again. I learned that he had passed away some years ago after illness, only a few years older than I am now.

Thank you, Sir. Your service to the nation is never forgotten - nor your quiet kindness to one young soldier more than forty years ago.

Tribute to Lyndon Gan

Musings from Dennis #289. I just received the heartbreaking news that my former Sentosa Development Corporation colleague and dear friend, Lyndon Gan, passed away. Lyndon was the curator of the Sentosa Coralarium in the early 1990s, and it was during those years that we became fast friends. Even after I left for Pico Art, our friendship continued. A qualified Marine Biologist, Lyndon once invited me to join him and his team on a scuba‑diving trip around Singapore’s Sisters’ Island as they searched for specimens for the attraction - an experience I still cherish.

When I was preparing for my wedding in 1994, Lyndon helped me book his church as the venue. He also graciously agreed to be my wedding photographer that day. After lunch at my home, we drove to the church to prepare for the service.

Along the East Coast Parkway highway, we narrowly avoided a serious accident when the car in front braked suddenly. Lyndon was driving, and with remarkable calm and skill, he swerved us out of danger. Thirty‑two years later, I remain deeply grateful for his steady hands and steady heart that day.

Lyndon, the Lord has called you home far sooner than any of us expected, at the young age of 61. I pray that He comforts your family as they grieve, and that He provides for them as they continue life’s journey without their beloved husband and father. “He doeth all things well.” - Mark 7:37

March 1994 - Lyndon was the photographer for my wedding day

April 1992 - the team treating me to a farewell lunch and Lyndon is jesting

April 1992 - photo keepsake of Lyndon and I

Decoy

Musings from Dennis #288. I visited our Retro Mickey apparel licensee’s new specialty fast‑fashion store at a major mall in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. The concept targeted teens and young adults - positioned above mass‑market level. At that time, owning a piece of the Vintage Mickey line felt like a badge of cool nostalgia.

The store was beautifully renovated to attract this audience, deploying slick visual merchandising to draw the fan base. The core products were the character tees - priced at roughly twice the mass‑market level. I wondered if customers would accept that premium, given Mickey’s already massive presence at GMS.

Then I noticed a small range of jackets - striking, stylish, and very expensive. Curious, I asked the licensee if he was confident about such pricing. He smiled and revealed the strategy: the jackets were priced to push shoppers toward the tees. The jackets weren’t meant to sell — they were the decoy, a visual anchor that elevated the perceived value of the T‑shirts.

It was a masterclass in retail psychology. The books call it the decoy effect - where a high‑priced item reframes the mid‑tier product as the “smart choice.”

In merchandising mix planning, we know that a full range of design and pricing is essential, even if 20% of products generate 80% of sales. One toy buyer I knew once tried selling only that 20%. On display, the assortment looked sparse - and sales collapsed.

Back to our Mickey fast‑fashion licensee: he surpassed his forecast and reported royalty excesses. Proof that a well‑placed decoy can turn perception into profit.

Reflections of a Dad

Musings from Dennis #287. From the moment the nurse placed my first twin in my arms, something shifted in me. I knew instantly that life would no longer be lived for myself alone — it would now be for this little boy, and for his brother who arrived moments later.

They were born during my Takashimaya years, a season when sleep came in 4–5 hour fragments because these two were not easy sleepers. But even in the exhaustion, there was purpose.

When they turned five, we received news that the Disney CP SEA office would close by year’s end. My first thought wasn’t about my career — it was about them. How do I continue providing? That question sat heavily on me for months until the master licensee deal with FCI came through.

At eight, they saw me go through one of the toughest periods of my working life. The stress was so intense that I once sat in tears, seriously considering quitting. But again, I held on — because the people at home needed me, the only breadwinner.

Fast forward to the end of 2023. I finally felt peace to step away from my job. By then, one twin had already been working for a few years, and the other was in the final stretch of medical school. I often joked that Disney paid for their early years, and Nickelodeon paid for their college and university years — and it’s true.

Today, as my wife and I enjoyed the Father’s Day lunch they treated us to, I found myself looking back with gratitude. The struggles, the sleepless nights, the stress — they all led to this moment. The boys are now 30, and who knows… my next role as Grandpa may begin sooner than I think.

Talk Talk Talk

Musings from Dennis #286. “So sorry my son (he was about 10) talks too much!”, the mom apologized to me as he was happily chatting away to me while on a social services project I was on with my church some years back. “Oh please don’t stop him, who knows this mouth of his might be his future - and to your benefit”, I gently told her.

I said that because I know the type. I was just like that kid.

From Primary 1 (age 7), I was the one who couldn’t stop talking - enough to earn ruler whacks on my knuckles for distracting the class. Even in kindergarten, a classmate (now a friend) still reminds me how I got him into trouble because I wouldn’t stop yakking. By age 11, my teacher actually put it in my report book.

But that “problem” became a gift.

It’s the same gift that now lets me connect with people in this industry, present decks, pitch for work, and build relationships. Of course, I’ve also met my match - a few clients who can talk me into silence because they never paused, haha.

So here’s my small encouragement to parents and educators: When you see a child with a natural flair for communication - even if it feels irritating - look closer. There may be something there worth nurturing. Our industry needs them.