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Old Skool

I’m writing this as I watch the Formula One Belgian Grand Prix at the Spa-Francochamps track, and I can say one thing about the pitgirls here: straight from the pits of hell they must have come. Wifey is busy making cookies with her friend in the kitchen.

Cookies in the oven

I love my notebook now. It has just undergone a process the India Indian engineers at my former workplace call ‘Upgradation’ (kepala pungkoq mak pak hangpa – what the fork is ‘Upgradation’?) running on a 2GB RAM compared to the preinstalled 512MB RAM previously. Don’t laugh at me la, Countloon and Kimi. Cipet!

It has also been a good weekend. Wifey and I have had the kids (mine and hers) in one place, and we had good friends over for berbuka puasa last night, and today we had berbuka at my close friend’s place in turn.

Wifey the Chef

Wifey was back in her ‘Chef Mode’ preparing Rendang Hati and Paru, and Nasi Lemak, while friends brought a potpourri of bingeing stuff. We had Gombak4Life, Liverpool Babe, Oja and hubby, Neomesuff and hubby, Hana, Rainmaker, Syed Gemgem Odorono Corleone al-Lysha, Spena, and Brother Rina. We had Qiammullail at the house that ended with sahur at around 4am before everyone went home.

Bingeing

Today, we had berbuka at my old friend Nad’s house and we were joined by the Forlorn Soldier and his family. I last saw Nad on the first day of Hari Raya, the most painful one for me, at Forlorn Soldier’s house, just a couple of hours before I left KL to nurse my broken heart by going diving at the Perhentians. Nad and I go back a long way, even before he got his eldest, Karl Rafique. Incidentally, today is Karl’s 20th birthday, and that little baby I used to babysit has already played a few gigs at the No Black Tie.

My kids listening to the Forlorn Soldier's hogwash

Yes, I am that old. Thebo72 mentioned something about old terms such as Baju Disco, Kasut Disco, when people have replaced the term ‘Disco’ with ‘Club’ and to go to a disco is simply called going clubbing nowadays. Back in the mid-80s when I was a serving officer, going clubbing would mean going to a disco to literally club other people’s head and start a free-for-all just for fun. Now the term has taken a sissified meaning.

Nad and I used to hang out at places such as Club Oz, Tin Mine (later TM2), Faces, Phase Two, 11LA, 10 Kia Peng, and our last hangout was at the Brannigans. Mention those names to the youngsters nowadays and you’ll get strange looks; much like how I would look at people who mention names like BB Park, Bamboo Inn, Pertama Cabaret, Jubilee Park, so on and so forth. Well, Pertama Cabaret and Jubilee Park used to have striptease shows there right until 1976 or 1977 the most before such shows were banned, and men nowadays get a hardon if they see women wearing lipstick, or hear the clicking sounds made by a pair of high-heeled shoes. Somehow I think there are more perverts in this country than there were back in the 1970s. And more kids get fingers and whole limbs blown off by home-made firecrackers now compared to the 1970s when we played real fireworks and shoot bamboo cannons back at my late maternal grandparents’ home in Pahang.

In 1976, months after the passing of the 2nd Prime Minister, Tun Abdul Razak, his son, Jay (now Datuk Nazir Razak, Group CEO of CIMB Berhad) and I used to go ice-skating at the Asiajaya complex. The following year, when Sungai Wang Plaza had its own ice-skating rink, I would go there almost every Saturday night because it would be turned into a huge disco, and we would all be dancing to the tunes from the movie ‘Saturday Night Fever.’ However, my first introduction to disco songs was back in 1975 when the song ‘The Hustle’ hit the charts. Then we had songs like Play That Funky Music, Fly Robin Fly, Ojah Awake, Boogie Nights and others. Of course, my favourite mushy song then was ‘You Light Up My Life’ by Debbie Boone. Of course you cannot beat the sounds by the Brothers Gibbs (Bee Gees) and their youngest, the late Andy Gibb, with his song, Shadow Dancing.

How I miss those good old days…literally good, compared to the days we have now. Life is much more complex nowadays, sometimes unnecessarily.

Gosh, it is 3am already…when is the wife going to be done?

Wifey's Cookie

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I, The Fortuitous Diver

Once in a while I will come out with weird words, some that could probably have made Wifey fall for me, some she’d laugh at. She’d laugh at me whenever I use terms such as, “I’m negotiating a bend right now”, or, “I’m cross with you”. Fortuitous is what I am when it comes to diving. Nevermind its meaning; this posting may sound like it is filled with grandiloquence but, really, I do not converse like that in real life. Let that be a denouement for that paragraph.

It was July 1982 when my family traveled to Kuantan, where we stayed at the former Merlin Hotel, Teluk Chempedak for one night before making our way to the Tanjung Gelang Naval Base to board the Marine Police’s PZ-class fast patrol boat, KPD Lang Kuik (PZ4 – now in the inventory of the Coast Guard) for Pulau Tioman. As we passed Pulau Tulai, I remember sitting in the Captain’s seat listening to my Walkman; and the song that played was Christopher Cross’ “Sailing.”

When the PZ had longsided at the Merlin Tioman jetty (now the Berjaya Tioman jetty at Tekek), the captain of the PZ, then DSP Michael Lee, asked me if I knew how to swim. I told him I was a school-swimmer (I swam for the state a month later, and became a lifeguard at year’s end). So, he told me that he’d be taking me scuba-diving later that evening. I seriously thought that that was a form of badinage, since despite his reputation, he seemed like an affable person.

My father left in a PSC-class speedboat (nicknamed ‘Trojan’) for a fishing trip, while I, wearing a t-shirt and swimming trunks, donned a J-valve tank with nothing more than a harness, one second stage, a depth gauge and no air gauge nor a BCD, and off Michael Lee and I went…diving. A quick instruction above water on how to equalise and what toggle to yank should I suddenly run out of air, and we descended on the west side of Pulau Renggis, going down to 80 feet (about 24 meters). We speared two large Trevallies, bumped into a couple of Blacktip Reef Sharks that followed us throughout the dive. That was when I also bumped into what I now know as the Green Sea Turtle that I hitched a ride on by holding onto the edge of its shell. Of course, I wouldn’t do either activity anymore: Tioman is now a gazetted marine park, and I don’t ride on turtles anymore.

Doing a decompression stop at 4.5 meters
Doing a decompression stop at 4.5 meters

I did three dives on that trip, returning to Kuantan, and subsequently KL, the next day. I never dived again until 1992 when I was in the military, and carried on diving until 1995, stopping when I left the service. I only pursued scuba-diving as a hobby back in 2005.

So, that, my friends, was how I became a fortuitous diver.

Ready to dive

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In 27 Days

Fathers and sons will embrace each other.

Not my father.

And I don’t know if my son will be able to either.

Such is life…complicated.

Father and son

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The Berbuka Puasa I Had Been Waiting For

Last night we went for our first Terawih together. Before that we were out shopping at The Store and Jusco near Plentong, before settling for some Marrybrown fried chicken for dinner. After Terawih, we went to Stulang Laut for sahur where she had Nasi Goreng Cendawan while I had Sup Ekor.

Sup Ekor at Sayam Stulang Laut

This afternoon, we went shopping at Kamdar, Kotaraya, before shooting off in the heavy rain to Parit Raja to look for some bamboo floor mat. Then I decided to drive to Batu Pahat to see if any of the Bariyani joints are open. Sad to say, from Bariyani Power to Bariyani Mat Shah to Bariyani Gam Taman Bukit Pasir, all were closed. So we drove through Parit Yaani, Parit Yob, Sri Bengkal to get back to the Ayer Hitam exit for the highway. Johoreans sure take their holidays seriously. We couldn’t find a single joint open…well, hardly any. Even the Bak Kut Teh ones that we passed were closed. And the worse part is, tomorrow is another public holiday here in Johor.

In the end we settled for Restoran Osman, a 24-hour mamak joint in Larkin Perdana where we arrived some 15 minutes before berbuka.

And when the time to break fast came, I did what I had wanted to do more than 17 years ago: to feed the first mouthful to my wife. And I did just that.

Feeding my wife

And when she reciprocated, tears welled in my eyes. She looked at me and silently uttered, “I love you.”

My life is complete now.

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With This Ring I Thee Wed

“Honey, it’s beautiful!” she gasped, when I showed her the ring. It was still at the jewellers’ and I was checking out wedding rings or bands, moving from Cartier to Tiffany & Co. 2nd August 2008 was the date, and KLCC was packed with people going to the PC Fair. I half-regretted agreeing to go to check KLCC out but I thought it was best we took the opportunity to check things out.

I asked for a final price from the person and got it, and told her I’d be back before the end of the month. “Yeah, you and thousands others,” the lady would have probably said in her mind.

Several times she would lament the price. “Honey, but it’s too expensive!” she’d say. “I’d be happy with something a lot smaller and cheaper!”

I’d caress her cheeks and kiss her forehead and go, “Look, Honey. You’re worth it. I’ve been waiting for you for 42 years now. And for the price I’ll be paying, you’re worth far more than that.”

After meeting her uncle to inform him of our intention to get married, I went back to the jewellers’ and paid for the ring in cash. Then, I purposely made her wait for me to pick her up from a meeting, the traffic jam added extra effect to it. The mood was foul inside the car and I put on my usual “I’m pissed” look. Then I took my camera out, and put it on display mode, and showed her a photo of the ring.

“Honey, dia orang tak marah ke you ambil gambar ring ni?” she asked, puzzled.

“No, they did not,” I replied, stone-faced. “Why should they? I’ve bought it.”

She paused, breatheless for a moment, then hugged my left arm, almost in tears, said, “Thank you, Honey. It’s beautiful!”

“You’re beautiful. And you’re worth it,” I replied, kissing the top of her head.

Life can only get better. And I love you, Honey. With all my heart.

The wedding ring