"You can't find peace until you find all the pieces." Troy Dunn
These days, I shed tears almost on a daily basis. Except Sundays. Folks I know don't cry Sundays; they go shopping, or jalan-jalan cari makan.
Personally, I try not to bawl my eyes out Sundays if I can help it, for it might ruin both the family's weekly pasar malam highlight and our weekend karaoke session.
If you are in my part of the woods 6pm to 7pm Monday through Saturday, please stay away from my front door. Neither am I accepting phone calls. Sorry, you have been warned.
Why? Because I'd be getting comfortable for a good half-hour cry come 6.30pm, and you're not welcome to watch or hear me gently sniffling into my padded scatter cushion.
Television and I are not exactly the best of friends. I'd rather bury myself in books than face the box. Had it not been for documentaries and selected reality shows (read "MasterChef" and "American Idol"), you won't find me reaching out for the remote.
This is not always the case. A few decades back, I was an addict who could not face another day without knowing what went on in "Peyton Place" and "Dallas", and how Anjin-san John Blackthorne fared in yet another "Shogun" episode.
Like millions of others worldwide, I too was engrossed with Kunta Kinte's incredible journeys on Alex Haley's unforgettable "Roots", arguably the most-watched TV series of all time.
I was equally enamoured by a slew of British offerings, in particular that superb saga set in British India, "The Jewel In The Crown", and controversy-laden "The Thorn Birds", set in the Australian outback, about an illicit love affair between a banished Catholic priest and a young Australian woman.
Television and I parted company when I left journalism to run my own public relations consultancy, mostly because my time was no longer my own. I hardly had time to breathe, let alone indulge in the convoluted plots of make-believe stories.
These days, however, I find myself slowly picking up where I had left off years earlier, TVwise. Back on the couch you can find me evenings, most times for documentaries and real-life dramas ("Crime & Investigation" is a runaway favourite).
And then there's "The Locator", the source of my daily sniffles. It's the American version of TV3's absolutely heart-wrenching but short-lived Jejak Kasih.
"The Locator", aired at 6.30pm to 7pm from Monday to Saturday on Astro's Bio (channel 731), helps people reunite with long-lost family members and friends.
Troy Dunn, who initiated and helms "The Locator", is a trained private investigator, TV personality, businessman and public speaker rolled into one. Read more about him here.
The half-hour programme before "The Locator" is Emmy-nominated "Sell This House", a how-to reality show that helps homeowners stage their too-long-on-the-market homes for sale.
Prospective buyers are taped by hidden cameras during an open house, and their comments provide the basis for changes in redecorating and staging the house. The prospective buyers return after the transformation to comment on the changes.
I like the programme because it gives ideas about colour schemes and such, and valuable pointers on redecorating and space utilisation.
"Sell This House" is fronted by Tanya Memme, a sexy bootie and former Miss Canada, who has a penchant for showing off her ample cleavage. Check them out folks (the TV series and not just the Memme cleavage, ok....)