Tommy Page on NYC's Fox Channel 5

Oh, how my heart still melts at the sight of Tommy Page after all these years.......

Mea Culpa For The Unintended Silence

I cannot believe it's been 4 months since I last posted or written anything here - let alone visited my own blog! I haven't gotten bored of writing (as long as pigs don't fly...). I just couldn't find the time to sit down and contemplate on a decent post.

Work has been extremely demanding. I was then required to travel to the Land Down Under for work for a week in mid-August (motion sickness aside, it turned out to be a blast, so I'm not complaining). To top that off, hubby and I had had our hands full with renovation works in getting our new house ready for occupancy, and then there was the housewarming party, and our annual vacation was next on the list. Getting everything done simultaneously was clearly a baptism of fire. For the umpteenth time, I really wished there were more hours in a day than a mere 24 hours.

Things are still a little crazy now, though they have somewhat settled down. Though I may not be as prolific as I had been in the past, I shall nevertheless continue to orchestrate the occasional scribbles.

"Music Is The Art Which Is Most Nigh To Tears And Memory" - Oscar Wilde

The idea to write this blog came whilst I was driving home from work yesterday, listening to the radio.

I remember those days long gone by where I would sit by the radio everyday with a cassette tape right in place in the cassette player, finger all set to press the “record” button as soon as I heard my favourite songs being played over the radio. I had a wacky way of making my own songs compilations that was taught by my sis. (So now you know who’s the wackier of us two). Of course, the recorded songs were always far from perfect as the dee-jays always had this tendency to yak through the start of a song. Oh well, that was the best I could get at that time, living on a student’s allowance and with Mom watching me like a hawk each time I tried to dig out a dime from my piggy bank to buy cassettes. CDs were out of the question for they cost a fortune back then, comparing what we could get with RM50 then and now. Mom was strict money-wise, amongst other things, and she didn’t want us growing up thinking that money grew on trees. Fine. Point taken.

As I grew older, I took my wackiness with me to college. Being a little smarter and “resourceful”, I often spent days penning down a list of about 10 to 12 of my favourite songs and then headed on down to the record store nearby and had them make the compilation into cassette tapes for me (I even had a list of backup songs just in case the store didn't have what I wanted!). No dee-jays talking through songs, no poor quality music. Just perfect! Smart eh?

And now with new technological advancement and innovations, I got even smarter! (if you catch my drift!).

Here’s a list of some of the songs that I had loved growing up – in no particular order. Surely there are more that I fancied but which I just couldn't recall for the time being.

1. Adrian Gurvitz – Classic
2. Gazebo – I Like Chopin
3. Johnny Logan – Hold Me Now
4. Roy Orbinson – Only The Lonely
5. Glenn Medeiros – Me-U=Blue
6. Glenn Medeiros – Lonely Won’t Leave Me Alone
7. Brian May – Too Much Love Will Kill You
8. Patty Smyth & Don Henley – Sometimes Love Just Ain’t Enough
9. The Everly Brothers - All I Have To Do Is Dream
10. Simon & Garfunkel – Bridge Over Troubled Water
11. Dennis De Young – Desert Moon
12. Captain & Tennille – Do That To Me One More Time
13. Jason Donovan – Every Day (I Love You More)
14. Harry Belafonte - Day-O (The Banana Boat Song)
15. Loverboy – Heaven In Your Eyes
16. ABBA - Chiquitita
17. Indecent Obsession – Lady Rain
18. Jose Mari Chan – Please Be Careful With My Heart
19. Kenny Loggins – Meet Me Halfway
20. Paul Anka – Put Your Head On My Shoulder
21. Southers Sons – You Were There
22. Santa Esmeralda – You’re My Everything
23. Tears For Fears – Sowing The Seeds Of Love
24. Tears For Fears – Shout
25. England Dan & John Ford Coley – Just Tell Me You Love Me
26. Sonia – You’ll Never Stop Me From Loving You
27. Teen Queens - I Love How You Love Me
28. Debbie Gibson - Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow
29. A-Ha - Crying In The Rain
30. Phil Collins - A Groovy Kind Of Love
31. Roberta Flack & Peabo Bryson - You Are The Love Of My Life
32. The Jets - Make It Real
33. Exposé - I'll Never Get Over You Getting Over Me
34. Rick Astley - Hold Me In Your Arms
35. Mike Reno & Ann Wilson - Almost Paradise
36. Taylor Dane - Love Will Lead You Back
37. Julio Iglesias & Willie Nelson - To All The Girls I've Loved Before
38. Barbra Streisand - Evergreen
39. Gloria Estefan and Miami Sound Machine - Here We Are
40. Elvis Presley - Can't Help Falling In Love
41. Barbra Streisand - Woman In Love
42. Bertie Higgins - Casablanca
43. Escape Club - I'll Be There
44. Mike & The Mechanics - The Living Years
45. Sa-Fire - Thinking Of You
46. USA For Africa - We Are The World
47. Da Buzz - Wo Ai Ni (I Love You)
48. Indecent Obsession - Come Back To Me
49. Dan Hill & Vonda Shepard - Can't We Try
50. Marc Almond & Gene Pittman - Something's Gotten Hold Of My Heart

Will The Real Slim Shady Please Stand Up!

Something doesn't quite make sense. I've been scratching my head trying to comprehend these two scenarios - a married woman in an on-going affair with a married man is trying to convince meat-eaters into becoming vegetarians; and a married woman who proudly and frequently loudly proclaims herself to be downright religiously faithful and who attends every mass her church ever holds is adulterous. Ironic? No? Hypocrites? No? Does one minus one equal zero? Yes?

I may not have chosen to embrace Christianity but I do know that the seventh of the Ten Commandments reads "Thou shalt not commit adultery". Similarly, in Buddhism - which I have embraced not too long ago - one of the five fundamental precepts of the Buddhist moral code forbids adultery. It is believed that the adulterer's soul would be fried in oil in the 5th level of hell, also known as the Chambers of Oil Cauldrons.

Seriously, I don't see how becoming a vegetarian could make the adulteress more compassionate as compared to the hurt she will be inflicting on the respective spouses should the infidelity surfaces one black unlucky day. I don't see how refraining from meat could make her less sinful than engaging in an amorous extra marital affair that she's presently involved in, covered with lies upon lies. Does she really think she will be forgiven without repent? Is meat-eating more sinful than a heart gone astray? What happened to her wedding vows? "..... to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part."

Don't give me that God-hates-sins-but-loves-the-sinner and the to-err-is-human-to-forgive-is-divine preach. It's just the lamest excuse suited to an adulterer to commit adultery without feeling remorseful. Nothing comes close to being more despicable than a two-faced two-timing scumbag who is trying to be angelic with a phony halo above his/her head while at the same time being Lucifer's closest comrade. C'mon! Do you seriously think we would fall for that?

Before these hypocrites go on a quest to save the animals or to change the world or go all holy moly on others, perhaps they should take a look at themselves in the mirror and change their philandering ways before trying to change others.

Religions do not forbid meat-eating. Religions forbid adultery! Get that in your head, you cheaters!

Stop K9 Trades! Adopt Instead!

Hubby and I share a common interest – we love paying visits to pet shops and we often will find almost any excuses under the sun to go there, no matter how lame they might sound, from hammie needs new bath salt to hammie needs new beddings to hammie needs vitamins! We adore the pet shops for the simple reason that these are where we could catch a glimpse of those lovely four-legged friends which we so hope to have one. Until…..

Our last visit to one has left me coming out teary-eyed. It changed the way I will ever feel about pet shops again. In the display window, among the other rascals walking, jumping and playing in their cages, was this one small, skinny, quiet and sad-looking brown male toy poodle of about six weeks old. Whilst his other stronger siblings and counterparts were excited at the sight of the keepers walking up and down the aisle with food in their hands – it was feeding time – he was all curled up in one corner of the cage, as if too frail and weak to move. Not a bark, not a whine. For what felt like five minutes as I stood there watching him, there were only few movements that I spotted from him – he got up on fours, walked in a circle, then curled up in a fetal-like position and closed his eyes. And he wasn't even interested in his food when the other pups gobbled up theirs! He was a heartbreaking sight. No one seemed to notice the little guy. Was he in pain? Would he be all right? Most importantly, would he survive? A hundred and one questions ran through my mind. OK, I might have exaggerated a bit on the number of questions I had, but you get the point.

I am aware that sights like these are nothing unusual in pet shops. But it kind of makes me wonder….. Why do people buy dogs from pet shops when they could easily adopt one from the animal shelters - vaccinated, de-wormed and neutered/spayed - all for free? The way I see it, it is the status quo thing that is in play here. Yes, status quo - the mother of all f****d up mentalities. One will surely score high points being seen with a pedigree dog than with a mongrel, won’t they? Probably that’s the reason canine trades are booming like mushrooms these days.

My last visit to the pet shop has incidentally changed my perspective of the objective of the existence of these money-zapping profit making businesses. To say that the proprietors are animal lovers will be an overstatement. They may not even realise that there’s a sick animal under their so-called “care”! Or even if they did, they couldn’t care more. Their objective is to sell off the sick animal faster than the speed of light and make a humongous profit thereon – so lucrative is this business that they are smiling from ear to ear all the way to the bank! And what happens to dogs which have grown some and which are no longer seen as loveable? Are they being sold to cold hearted blockheads who use them for some stupid animal testing? Or will they then be returned to the breeders, like a loaf of expired bread? Then what next?? I dare not even imagine! This canine trading thing is the equivalent of human trading sans the law! It needs to stop! Only when the demand ends will the supply too!

Strays deserve a shot at life too, not just purebreds - though I must admit that not all purebreds’ lives are a bed of roses. There were times when I, whilst browsing through the animal adoption websites, came across Shit-zus being put up for adoptions simply because their nincompoop owners have come to their senses that they now cannot afford on the pretext that the dogs were taking up too much of their costs, time and attention. There was also a very sad case of a Shit-zu being abandoned at the doorsteps of the SPCA - in the city where I live - all because the dog’s blind!

It is for these reasons that canine trades must stop in the hope that they will not suffer the same ill-fated tragedies that befall the mongrels. Lest we forget, for every pedigree that is being sold, a stray ends up on the streets. The lucky ones end up in the animal sanctuaries, awaiting a second chance at life. The unlucky ones end up being beaten to death or as road kills. If one could just spare a minute and visit the animal shelters, one would discover that for every homeless animal there, there is a very sad story to its existence and why it is there. When one look into those luminous eyes it is hard to believe that no soul exists behind those eyes.

If only we could forget about status quo and have a heart for the abandoned animals…… we would be making such a huge difference to a precious little life.

Furry Friends VS Children

Having been married for nearly four years, I have been periodically bombarded with questions from married relatives, friends and even acquaintances on when would I be starting a family or why haven't I started a family of my own yet. Yes, those were the exact same people who kept interrogating and pestering me to tie the knot while I was still single and dating or worse, who used to continuously ask if I had already found my significant other when even the blind could see that I hadn't - just to make me suffer from inferiority complex. Funny thing is Mom, Dad and sis never did once ask me these.

It feels like it was only yesterday that I got married though I will be celebrating my fourth wedding anniversary come August. Like any other married woman, I have contemplated motherhood the moment hubby and I were joined in holy matrimony. My peeps who married after I have mostly now become proud parents. I, on the other hand, have somehow in these four years managed to abstain from becoming a baby-producing machine - with mutual understanding between hubby and I, of course. It wasn't the forces of science that have been working against hubby and me, rather it was the level humankind has degraded to that has been giving us second thoughts.

It is pretty shocking to read how moral decay among youths these days have caused them to succumb to vices and bad influences and how they view life as cheap and invaluable. There isn't a day that goes by without such news appearing all over the local dailies or on the world wide web. A day without such reports would be the day the pigs and cows fly. Let's face it. Every parent's apprehension starts at the point of the child's conception and ends with the parent's last breath. Sure I've been told that there's no point worrying about it now, it all depends on the virtues instilled by the parents on the kids while they are still young and to take each day as it comes. Que sara sara, some said. But would I want to spend my entire life worrying my head off of what might become of my child? For the impatient person that I am, I certainly don't think I am ready for such a huge commitment as yet and neither is hubby.

So what would we do should we decide to go childless by choice? For one, there are a lot of dogs out there which are homeless and which long for a good home. The door to our home will always be opened if it's fated that our paths should cross. A furry friend's love knows no boundaries - that I truly believe!

So there you go, curious minders.

I Heart Thomas Alden Page

Tommy Page, a name synonymous with my teenage years and where the mention of his name never fails to bring about a rush of adrenaline to my soul. Yes, I was CRAZY over Tommy Page back in the late 80s and the early 90s. I still am now. I even knew by heart (I still do now!) all the lyrics to all his songs for crying out loud! (Now I even manage to psycho hubby into singing Tommy's songs!). Yup, I was a teenager who always invented my own crazy whimsical activities. And if anyone thinks I should have grown out of this teenage craze now that I have grown up, well I HAVEN'T.

My preoccupation with Tommy Page started in 1989 when I was but two years short of transitioning from mommy's lil girl and daddy's favourite angel into a rebellious hormone-driven teenager. Of course, I've had my fair share of idol infatuations ranging from matinée idols to sports figures, but nothing beat my obsession with Tommy Page.

Tommy Page was, in my then young and naive mind, not just an idol but also a mentor, in a way. You see, I was sent for piano lessons at the age of six because Mom and Dad could no longer put up with my incessant banging on my toy piano. Classes were fun at first, but they soon came to a point where exams were second to none and pleasure playing was a thing of the past. In other words, piano playing became monotonous. Dealing with two piano exams in a year with a mere six-month gap wasn't easy. Then along came Tommy Page. And snap! he made learning piano a joyful experience once again. I remember how I used to train myself to play the entire version of A Friend To Rely On and his other songs simply by listening to the tracks! This guy wrote and sang darn good ballads. Plus he's super duper drop dead gorgeous!!!! Instant sizzle!

There's one poem which Tommy Page wrote in his fourth album that I live by. It gives me the strength to keep going when I feel like I've almost lost it all.

Something turns to nothing

And nothing makes you cry

There was something in that something

It's gone and you wonder why

Life can't be lived on one thing

For that one thing could be that something

So wipe those tears of nothing

For tomorrow there will be something

- Tommy Page

To further laud his influence on me would be superfluous.

Much as I adored Tommy Page, I never had the chance to see him in person - up close and personal. I wasn't even close to seeing the strands of hair he left behind... hahaha! (just a figure of speech. Nothing perverted of that sort, please!) Sure he flew in here yearly for album promotions and frequented Kuala Lumpur and Penang. I was living in between these two cities in a small tranquil town of Taiping. I had so much wanted to go see him in person. Mom and Dad didn't share my teenage enthusiasm, unfortunately, while sis - well, sis seemed to think that I had gone cuckoo up in my head, though she now thinks I am level-headed!

  

That's why I have made it an agenda in my life to one day be in New York City, and not forgetting to visit Minetta Lane - the place that gave Tommy Page the inspiration to write a song, and hopefully to be lucky enough to bump into him on the streets of Manhattan. He's the reason I am so in love with Manhattan and subsequently the United States of America! But what are the odds of that ever happening in a city - according to Wikipedia - with a population of 1,634,795 living in a land area of 22.96 square miles? It's almost like trying to look for a needle in the haystack! Nevertheless, this childhood dream of mine is waiting to manifest itself.

Tommy Page turns 40 today and is aging gracefully. However, I still miss the clean cut decent baby-faced New Jersey son I first got accustomed to 20 years ago. Even though he has long grown out of his boyish-ness, he still manages to mesmerise me and keep me tantalised two decades down the road. Foolish as it may sound to some, I have no qualms admitting my admiration for and infatuation with Tommy Page. After all, there's a child in all of us. At least when I look back on my life, I would be able to laugh at my idol mania and say "Been there, done that" every step of the way. There's just something mysteriously remarkable about Tommy Page that makes me drool and go all ga-ga. And I always have this nostalgic feeling each time I saunter down memory lane listening to his songs.

If Tommy Page were to do it all again, I would have done the same things I did growing up - only this time I would make sure I see him in the flesh by hook or by crook.

Until that day, in the words of Tommy Page, "I'll keep wishing and praying, waiting and waiting......."

What Makes A "Banana"?

No, I’m not referring to the ripen long-curved thick yellow-skinned tropical fruit. Neither am I associating this word with something lewd, in case you are of crude mind. My reference is to the people – again no, I don’t have Bananas In PJs or jammies in mind – who are very much Chinese and whose ancestors and roots can be traced back to ancient China but who are illiterate as far as reading and writing Chinese characters is concerned, like yours truly here. In short, we are what most fluent-speaking Chinese would refer to as “yellow on the outside and white on the inside”, hence the term “banana”. Frankly, I find nothing derogatory in that term, rather a compliment.

I attended national schools with only English and Bahasa Malaysia as mediums of teaching. Mandarin was left to be taught on Saturday mornings as extra classes for students. Though I attended Mandarin classes, I never did make the cut. I wrote Chinese characters like I did drawing, couldn’t speak a word of Mandarin and was clueless at what the teacher in front was yakking about. Blah blah blah, yak yak yak, yada yada yada. After just a few classes, I decided I had had enough.

At home, Mom and Dad had always emphasised the importance of speaking grammatically correct English and Chinese languages always came secondary, if any. Mom would often sing to sis and me nursery rhymes from Mother Goose and read to us fairy tales when we were little. As we grew a little older, Enid Blyton became our favourite which Mom and Dad gladly bought. Mom and Dad were westernised Chinese, with Mom more westernised than Dad. That was how my “banana” seeds were being sowed and nurtured.

Growing up, sis and I frequented cartoons like Saber Rider and the Star Sheriffs, He-Man and She-Ra, Spiderman and Friends, Jem and the Holograms, tv series/comedies like Mind Your Language, Super Gran, The Misfits, Gilligan's Island, Sesame Street, Murder She Wrote, prime time soap operas like Knots Landing, Santa Barbara, Dallas and English pop and oldies music, so much so that I’ve now grown up to only understand simple yet limited Cantonese words. That, too, happens to be the only Chinese dialect that I know. Throw in some Chinese proverbs, idioms and bombastic words and voila! You’ve made me speechless!

I have to admit that I have been constantly mocked and criticised by some typical Chinese people for my Chinese-language impediment. Yes, I have been verbally attacked for being inarticulate in the language. Yes, I have difficulties blending in with some of my Chinese speaking counterparts, but that doesn't make me less of a Chinese than the rest. I may not make it to the "Ah Lian" or the "Cina Ah-Soh" category, but I am proud of who my ancestors were and where they came from.

On the other hand, I am also thankful - in fact I consider myself fortunate - that my Mom and Dad saw the importance of English at an early age and strived to provide me with the best opportunity and resource to learning English.

As for the critics of us "banana people", well, let's hope that you have the entire knowledge of Chinese history, culture and belief at your finger tips. Otherwise, you'd just be like one of us...... Neither here nor there, neither this nor that! Period.

LOVE Is A Many Splendored Thing

I love this song. It brings back memories of my childhood each time I listen to it - though I'm not sure what its connection is to my younger days. Nat King Cole had sung it. So had some of music's greatest legends like Frank Sinatra, Johnny Mathis and Andy Williams. But the version that I love best has got to be the one by Engelbert Humperdinck. It just melts my heart.....

Love Is A Many Splendored Thing

Love is a many splendored thing

It's the April rose that only grows in the early spring

Love is nature's way of giving a reason to be living

The golden crown that makes a man a king

Once on a high and windy hill

In the morning mist two lovers kissed and the world stood still

Then your fingers touched my silent heart and taught it how to sing

Yes, true love's a many splendored thing

Once on a high and windy hill

In the morning mist two lovers kissed and the world stood still

Then your fingers touched my silent heart and taught it how to sing

Yes, true love's a many splendored thing

The Annoying Voice That Is Miley Cyrus

OK. It's official. I hate Miley Cyrus. No. Let me rephrase that. I loathe Miley Cyrus! And it all took me no more than a short minute to conclude that.

I have this habit of walking straight to where my radio is and have it switched on in the mornings immediately upon waking up so as to get back in touch with reality after a good night's sleep. I always needed music, above anything else. Music is like food to my soul regardless of the time of day. Music heals my soul.

However, this morning as I was getting ready for work, Miley Cyrus' "When I Look At You", the original soundtrack from the movie The Last Song, was played over the radio. And by golly! So ticked off was I at the sound of her voice that I had to switch the radio off to calm my nerves!! She sounded like a heifer on heat. Her voice was practically toneless and flat like the sound of a ship horn! I have heard Miley's other songs and they were bad, but this one takes the cake! Why and how did she manage to be listed as one of the 100 Most Influential People In The World by Times' magazine leaves a lot to be wondered.

Miley oh Miley. We don't want to break your achy breaky heart but why don't you just stop singing your achy breaky songs and spare us from further achy breaky agony. Surely you do not want to be ridiculed by "Weird Al" Yankovic and have him write a parody of you and/or your song(s) like he did your dad?

"Achy Breaky Song" by "Weird Al" Yankovic

You can torture me

With Donnie & Marie

You can play some Barry Manilow

Or you can play some schlock

Like New Kids On The Block

Or any Village People song you know

Or play Vanilla Ice

Hey, you can play him twice

And you can play the Bee Gees any day

But Mr. DJ, please

I'm beggin' on my knees

I just can't take no more of Billy Ray

Don't play that song

That "Achy Breaky" song

The most annoying song I know

And if you play that song

That "Achy Breaky" song

I might blow up my radio, ooo...

You can clear the room

By playing Debbie Boon

Or crank your Abba records until dawn

Oh, I can even hear

Slim Whitman or Zamfir

Don't mind a Yoko Ono marathon

Or play some Tiffany

On 8-track or CD

Or scrape your fingernails across the board

Or tie me to a chair

And kick me down the stairs

Just please don't play that stupid song no more

Don't play that song

That "Achy Breaky" song

You know I hate that song a bunch

And if you play that song

That nauseating song

It might just make me lose my lunch, ooo...

Don't play that song

That "Achy Breaky" song

I think it's driving me insane

Oh, please don't play that song

That irritating song

I'd rather have a pitchfork in my brain...

Don't play that song

That "Achy Breaky" song

The most annoying song I know

And if you play that song

That "Achy Breaky" song

I might blow up my radio, ooo-woo..

Numb3rs - Believe It Or Not?

I was never quite a believer that numbers could either win me or lose me. Unlike most Chinese - that's where my roots are, though I am a "banana" - I do not think the numbers "3" could make me immortal, "4" could bring me disaster and "8" could bring me wealth in bountiful if I don't work my butt off.

However, I seem to be having a slight brush with my scepticism lately when I started getting sick, literally, all too often. My physical well-being hasn't been completely at its best since last month. It was only in early April 2010 that I was down with a very nasty flu that was the cause of a swollen tonsil - the worst that I can remember - that took me two whole weeks to recover with two visits to the doctor in a matter of two days. I was forced to breathe through my mouth, no thanks to my stuffy nose (stuffy as in stuffed with think mucus!) which required medication day and night to give way for clear air passage.

Then I recovered. Elated as I was at having the flu bug taken down, two weeks later, the cough bug hit me which again needed me to visit two doctors in two rounds within... you guessed it, two days! To add salt to wound, I've had insomnia the last two nights and my whole body now aches. Damn!

The number "2" is depicted as a good number for the superstitious Chinese for it's a homophone of the word "easy" in Cantonese. Could that be the reason I keep getting sick?

Having said that, do I still see myself as a sceptic or have I now turned into a believer? Nay, two wrongs don't always make a right.

Sophie Kinsella

Here's a range of books that I love from the author of Shopaholic novels, Sophie Kinsella. Her books are a blend of romance and humour and are bound to make readers laugh till they cry. If these don't make me a big chick lit fan, I don't know what that makes me.

Another definitely must-reads for chick lit lovers!

The Last Song - Nicholas Sparks

Being a sucker for chick lit and heart-soaring tears-inducing romance novels, I thought Nicholas Sparks' The Last Song was about some puppy love gone wrong simply based on the one liner "Do you ever really forget your first heartbreak?" found on the cover of the book. But little did I know that it wasn't the teen romance
but rather the father-daughter relationship that pierced my heart like a dagger - and yes, tears did swell up in my eyes.

The movie is out, however, I am hesitant to watch it since it stars the ever so untalented Miley Cyrus. But the book's definitely a must read for bookworms!

Having enjoyed reading The Last Song, Dear John will be next on my to-read list.

Of Fake Accents and American Wannabes

Much has been said about Malaysian English radio DJs, newscasters and even plain 'ol English-speaking Malaysians speaking with what seems to them to be "American” or “British” accents - with the formal being largely a favourite amongst the wannabes.

Being an ardent radio listener and a music lover, radio is by means my mode of entertainment at home and in the car. I could tolerate radio commercials that stretch beyond 5 minutes at times. I could tolerate dee-jays babbling away for minutes on end after each song is played. I could even tolerate people speaking badly structured English a.k.a broken English. But if there is one thing which I find intolerable and which annoys me to the core is hearing some pathetic dee-jays faking up some American accents. If you happen to notice, there's at least one perpetrator in every English radio station in the country who is guilty of such offence. Usually after they are done yakking, I would often ask myself "What the hell did they just say?" Mind you, these are pure breed Malaysians I am talking about, ie. born, bred, and educated in national schools! So how and where on earth were they taught to pronounce words the American way remains a case of the X-Files to me.

What's wrong with speaking English the Malaysian way? And with that I don't mean throwing in the infamous "lah's", "ah's", "mah's", "one's" and whatnots in a sentence but speaking grammatically correct English - Malaysian style. And what's with the tongue curling at the pronunciation of the letter "r"? Malaysian English is based on British English. Surely we don't hear the British emphasising the "r" when saying "world" or "star" or "reverse" ex cetera. Our society needs to understand that copying the way the Americans speak does not make one appear classier. It just makes one appear desperate - desperate to sound like an American but failing miserably.

Let's face it. Watching one too many American dramas and movies, mingling with a group of Americans and spending just a couple of years in an American university don't mean one needs to acquire the traits of an American if one is not. Whether one's accent is genuine or made-up is pretty conspicuous to the ears. Don't get me wrong. I love the Americans and all things Americana. In fact, I look up to the Americans. But even that, I wouldn't stoop so low as so talk and act like an American unless I were born and educated in the United States.

We Malaysians need not speak with an accent to proof that we are proficient in the English language. The way I see it, it's only those who can't speak proper English that will subject themselves to being copy-cats. After all, it's their only way of hiding their incompetency.

It's time these badly programmed puppets grow out of their childishness and start behaving like mature, sensible, no-nonsense adults!

Sawadee Ka! Welcome To Thailand

Hatyai - to be more specific. My third trip to Hatyai in three years with hubby during the long weekend just passed was pretty much a last minute decision. Needless to say, hotels and buses were almost fully booked. We had to make do with the "leftovers" - which basically meant taking an odd hour bus that arrived 2 hours later than scheduled and a hotel which was slightly farther away from the shopping hotspots, but still within walking distance. Nevertheless we vowed to make full use of our hard-earned a-vacation-is-no-longer-an-option short break.

What is it in Hatyai that makes me want to go back there again and again, you may ask. Hubby and I go back solely for the following:-
1) Food - Thailand has the next best food in the world after Malaysia. Like its Malaysian counterpart, food is abundant anywhere anytime of the day. One can never go hungry in Thailand.

Tom Yam Kung. My favourite soup in the whole world. Fiery to the very last drop!

Mango with sticky rice (seasonal)

2) Sightseeing - Places of interests are aplenty in Hatyai, from the Klonghea Floating Market (left) to Wat Hat Yai Nai (right), to name a few.

3) Shopping - Shopping is such a joy in Hatyai with a wide range to choose from and at a good bargain. But do beware of genuine imitations!

4) Massages - They cost a fraction of what we pay back home! However, be prepared to have the masseur/masseuse wrestle with your body. Thai massages are a combination of massages with yoga-like positions. One will feel rejuvenate, that's a guarantee!

5) Entertainment - At the end of the day, it all boils down to one's preference and definition of entertainment. Tiger shows (why they are named as such continues to bewilder me) and A-gogos are everywhere in Hatyai that indecency does not even have a place in their dictionary. It's just like watching an X-rated movie live! My first few exposures to such vulgar display of obscenities happened while I was holidaying in Bangkok and Pattaya with hubby (then boyfriend) some 6 years back. They were hilarious yet disgusting at the same time.

My choice of entertainment in Hatyai was a decent one - The West Side Saloon. As the name suggests, the interior boasts of a Wild Wild West feeling upon entry. However, nothing beats the charisma a 5 member band could imbue on its audience. 

The West Side Saloon

Right : The 5 member band consisting of (from left to right) Barry Gibb-cum-Lionel Ritchie; Simon & Garfunkel-cum-Kenny Rogers-cum-Robin Gibb; Tony Orlando; Karen Carpenter-cum-Lionel Ritchie-cum-Anni-Frid Lyngstad-cum-Agnetha Faltskog (ABBA); and Barry Gibb.

This band was an awesome bunch. Be sure to request for Simon & Garfunkel's "Bridge Over Troubled Water". I first heard them sing this song 3 years ago and so mesmerised was I by it that my travel to Hatyai would not be complete had I not included this place in my itinerary. So if you're looking for a nice relaxing place where oldies music take the centrestage, The West Side Saloon is definitely THE PLACE!

Given all these reasons, would I return to Hatyai again? The answer is indubitably Y-E-S!

At Last!

Yup! At last I have decided to get my behind in gear and start something which I have longed to do, but have been procrastinating... A blog!

As an amateur blogger, this will be the place I will gather my thoughts and put any events that intrigue, perplex and irk me even, into writing. But one thing this blog will never be about is politics - for the obvious reasons. So yes, that aside, this blog is going to be about almost anything and everything under the sun.

Being new to this whole blogging thing, this site will inevitably go through constant changes and improvements through the additions of new gadgets from time to time. However, having to juggle between family, work and leisure (yeah, that's exactly how I see my life - in that particular order) isn't easy and more often than not I wish there were more than merely 24 hours in a day. Now I could comprehend why they say life is short - we just do not have enough time to do everything! I would consider myself a tad lucky if I could even manage a breather atop all these madness of life!

Nonetheless, I shall endeavour to kill two (or more) birds with one stone and posts any scribbles I could manage. After all, all work and no play is gonna make me a dull girl!