Joel Cooper Straits Times 6 May 12;
Life never turns out quite the way we expect. When I was five, I knew exactly what my future held - and it involved a type of prehistoric creature that once roamed the earth.
No, I'm not talking about Madonna's latest world tour. What I wanted was to be a paleontologist: an expert on dinosaurs. My kiddie imagination was home to a monstrous menagerie of giant scaly beasts, from the lumbering diplodocus to the bloodthirsty Tyrannosaurus Rex.
I even learnt the names of all the different species. And when the older boy who lived next door to me in Britain gave me his collection of plastic dinos in a box over the garden fence, I was well and truly hooked.
Of course, my childhood dream never did become reality. As I grew from a tousle-haired schoolboy to a gangly teen with a penchant for girls and dodgy fashion statements, my loyal prehistoric friends inevitably found themselves shoved on the backburner. Like countless other dino-loving youngsters, I allowed my passion for the terrible lizards to dwindle, before becoming virtually extinct.
My interest was piqued by the recent news that Twinky, the Republic's first fossil dinosaur skeleton, had finally touched down from Utah. Could having our very own Singaporosaurus help to fire the country's youth with passion for dinos that lasts a little longer than mine did? I'd love to think so. After all, I still remember the sense of wonder I felt when my parents took me to see the 26m-long replica diplodocus skeleton at London's Natural History Museum.
I was only six or seven, and the cavernous hall seemed to extend forever, curved beams lining its great ceiling like the ribs of a giant beast. But what really grabbed my attention was the mighty creature that stood commandingly in the centre of the room, its tail stretching almost from wall to wall. I guess you never forget your first dinosaur.
Of course, Singapore is not London. Just because prehistoric skeletons are a hit in Britain, it does not mean people here will necessarily take to dinosaurs. When the Republic's new natural history museum announced it intended to raise $12 million to buy dinosaurs, some questioned why it was wasting money importing the ancient bones to a country which has no history of finding them on its own soil. Could the funds be better spent on exhibitions celebrating the island's rich past?
For me, however, heritage is about more than simply a country's individual history and customs. Dinosaurs represent a global cultural phenomenon that goes way beyond their scientific value.
Yes, paleontology has plenty to teach us about our own fragile world, particularly as climate change leads some to worry that we could be heading for extinction ourselves. But this alone cannot explain the sheer fascination that people on all sides of the planet have with these cold- blooded plodders that vanished in mysterious circumstances 65 million years ago.
Wherever you look, they are alive and well - from big-screen franchises such as Jurassic Park to dino-shaped kids' snacks. What started around 200 years ago as a few strangely shaped stones on a beach in southern England has grown into an industry of truly monstrous proportions.
How would the early pioneers of fossil hunting such as Mary Anning feel if they were around to see spectacular shows such as the BBC's Walking With Dinosaurs, which bring these relics of a distant age to life? My guess is they would be delighted to witness how far paleontology has evolved, from the stuffy universities of Europe to the dinosaur graveyards of Utah and even the soft, fossil-free soils of Singapore. The name dinosaur may have become a byword for all things irrelevant and out-of-date, but the fact is they have truly captured the zeitgeist.
Singapore has long been one of the places where people from around the region go to access the latest in global culture, whether it's theme parks or Formula One. Dinosaurs are no different. They are a scientific treasure, an international industry and a symbol of childhood wonder and fascination with the unknown.
The Republic may not have been blessed with its own sauropods or velociraptors, but it is giving kids a chance to experience something magical.
Personally, I can't wait to introduce my inner seven-year-old to Twinky. Who knows? Perhaps it's not too late to resurrect my dino obsession.
