This weekend, as in any other week in my forever monotonous life, happens to be the most fun packed evening I have had in many years. And for a very simple reason, this week my daughter needed help with her school project. It was actually quite ‘easy’ as long as you are over 45 years old, have a passion for nostalgia and don’t really need a brain (ok, I am stupid…how?) to work on it. A chance to redeem myself (I said to myself), something different from her previous requests, I must say. The project, I am proud to announce is “Things of the past”. I started by asking “hmmmmh, you mean people?” or “places?” or even “gadgets?” To which she gave me a scornful look and said “dad, things of the past means anything from the past including you!!” I was speechless and went quietly delving deep into my past. 
When I young I used to wonder what it would be like to be an adult and the many thrills of having money in your wallet. It was a time when it’s no fun being a kid and all you hear were instructions, restrictions and more counter instructions. The idea of ‘fun’ just doesn’t exist and even if it does, it would be the barest ‘fun’ with no fun attached. Now that I am an adult (hmm…. no, middle age should be more appropriate), I realized it’s no better being an adult either. I still don’t have money in my pocket; ‘fun’ is still in the barest form. How unfortunate! Even the infamous “It’s about time. It’s about Change” hardly adds to the fun.
Having talked to my daughter and my niece, I now realize that one can receive the same level of excitement and satisfaction by simply gluing oneself to the chair next to a cafe and start surfing. Surfing can make you slave 24 hours a day, seven days a week, and if you are lucky, you get a reward; you can start to surf again. I am not against surfing, but not to the extent of surfing meaninglessly. I can’t say we spent, back in those wonderful days, quality time. We don't have computer, never-mind the lap top, all we had were counting cars based on pure memory. Yes, we also slave 24 hours a day, seven days a week, and if we are lucky, we get a reward; we made someone count for us.
In the old days, the least I could say was, mathematically the power of addition, subtraction and even multiplication comes in handy through the whole process of counting. These days’ things are made relatively easier by calculator, and it comes on your ruler, notebook, phone, clock etc. I remember having my first calculator, remember those old LED calculators? Don’t they just look good? Large buttons and displays that lits up in the dark. To be honest, I had my first calculator when I was at Form Six, by which time I already knew the basic mathematics and can memorise time tables up to 12. Say…….how is that the time tables are done in this manner only? You start from 1 times 2 until 12 times 2, then move up to 1 times 3 until you reached 12 times 3 and move to 4. The last time table you ever need to memorise is 12 and ends at 12 times 12. What about 13 and onwards? Pretty strange indeed.
Yes, life was indeed much simpler then. Even the songs were composed differently. You can hear each word (now, take this from me….words we think are not necessary words they sung) and hummed along effortlessly. You actually listen patiently, and to the mercy of the DJs to play the song you want. These days, you simply download any songs; erase them when you get tired of listening. Back in the old days, you have two choices either you wait for the heartless DJ to play your song or you buy the vinyl version. And in those days, I hear nobody complaining about sound quality. Amplifying it through a 5 ft loudspeaker is probably more important. And, strangely I hear no one singing in the toilet these days. Certainly not my daughter or the people belonging to her generation. So if you hear some flat tones coming somewhere near the toilet, you can be doubly sure that person is uncle or aunty without making any sensible guess.
Apart from the audio advancement, I have a strong passion and affiliation on the video part. My daughter’s impression of video is the DVD player, until I show her the monster projector. I had a tough time explaining to her the rattling sounds, burning of films and the sound system being camouflaged by an equaling loud generator. But more importantly, I managed to explain the open air cinema I experienced as a child. What about the mosquitoes and the rain, she asked. Yes, unfortunately the light from the projector attracted plenty insects and the screen are for most of the time covered with shadows of the insects. I can’t remember much about the rain especially during the monsoon months.
Perhaps I over-imagined, but a few monsoons after, we got our very first second hand black and white TV. I don’t see the same problem these days but in those days you needed a fan behind the TV (to cool it down) while we perspire and sweat profusely in the CROWD. I can’t tell why but when it comes to the most crucial moment, some elders (usually mum or dad) will shout “shut down the TV, it is getting too hot”. Duh!!! If not, there is always the same old message “We apologise for this temporary breakdown. Normal service will resume shortly.” Strangely, mum and dad will not shut down the TV but waited patiently. I guess I have a special passion for TV, for I simply grew up with it. But there were painful experience as well, one being fervently electrocuted for trying hard to adjust the ‘quality’ by getting rid of ‘fussy image’, ‘snowy image’ etc. All for the sake of watching the full hour of “A Little House on the Prairie” back in the days when a fan is meant only to cool down the TV and not the audience.
Watching my teenage daughter painstakingly save every picture I found for her, laughed and screamed in excitement as she was introduced the newer things of the past, my thoughts went back to those childhood days when I grew up in a little known place "Kulai Besar Estate." In the words of the Carpenters, “Looking back on how it was in years gone by. And the good times that I had. Makes today seem rather sad, so much has changed. Those were such happy times, and not so long ago. How I wonder where they’d gone.”
Sorry, it wasn’t me singing from the toilet!!!!
No comments:
Post a Comment