Radio, Always Been An Earful

I've been listening to the radio since I can remember.

90.5 used to be on in my home when I was growing up. My dad used to look out for the news all the time. "You don't need a watch. The radio will tell you what time it is", he used to say. So I grew up on English radio with all kinds of music feeding my ears, and knowledge of what was going on in the world.

I listened to Glen Campbell, John Denver, Donna Summer, The Eagles. I remember asking for Irene Cara's What A Feeling in 1983 on a kid's dedication show I wrote into.



I remember listening to news about Cambodia or Kampuchea rather, the British sailing down to the Falklands 30 years ago and Ronald Reagan getting shot at.

I remember also when Perfect 10 98.7 came online. It was funny having another English station to listen to. So from Victor Khoo's Charlie show and Roger Kool's Saturday Spin (RIP) I graduated to the pop culture sold lavish by this new station. I remember the first episode of American Top 40 with Casey Kasem. Def Leppard's Pour Some Sugar On Me was at no.2. Dunno why I recall that. Perhaps it was my intro to harder rock but I'm sure I must have experienced some Iron Maiden from 90.5. Maybe I didn't like it till now. Maybe rules were stricter then, no devil music on the airwaves. I remember local DJs couldn't play George Michael's I Want Your Sex (bet that has another meaning now) and Color Me Badd's I Wanna Sex You Up. These days, goodness, almost anything goes. I think the US has stricter radio censorship laws than we do.

These days I partake in a variety of earful pleasures. I listen to Gilles Peterson and Pete Tong in BBC Radio 1. I started with UK pop music in the late 80s and stuck with ever since. the British is way more cutting edge than the stuff America puts out. More range and diversity, and almost anyone can be a star. Come on, Cliff Richard had Christmas number ones in 1989 or something. I also got hooked to house and dance scene through the BBC too. I grew up on Paul Oakenfold remixes. There was Bom Da Bass, S Express, MARRS, Technotronic, Inner City. Anyone remember Bring Me Edelweiss by Edelweiss? God what a mad song. And whenever there was a super ballad or awesome rock song, that'll go number one too. Right Here Waiting did that in 3 weeks from debut. Now why did I know that? I used to track their weekly top 20, on paper. It was an obsession for about 2-3 years. Silly things teenagers do to think they're cool.



So besides the dance and new music, I listen to BBC 4 comedies. They're bloody funny. Even Just A Minute is funny. They have guest panel organized specifically so that everyone makes a fool of everyone else. How liberating is that. Start here >>

Local radio. Well I've currently got my ears on 98 FM in the mornings. I can't stand 95 FM for their self-indulgent crap. I jumped from 91.3 because they got too heavy with the hiphop. 90.5 puts me to sleep on weekend nights. Sometimes I wake up in the wee hours and hear The Way We Were and mentally sing along.

Letter To The Papers - Ethnic Quotas Not Applicable To Duxton Flats?

This is the letter I sent to TODAY paper re HDB's latest Balance Of Flats sales.

"About 40 or so units at the much coveted Pinnacle@Duxton estate are available under the latest HDB Balance Of Flats Sales exercise. These flats are open to buyers from all races. From the last sale however, it seemed that no more flats were available to Chinese applicants. I have Chinese friends who were then not able to secure a unit based on restrictions under the HDB's ethnic quota policy. Did the HDB lift these restrictions for the current sale? If so, under what circumstances is this policy aimed at ethnic and social integration flexible?"

It sort of riles me that the HDB plays these games with us.

What The Park? Who Changed Its Name?

My new old favourite song right now is 'Moving To New York' by The Wombats. It came to me in a 2-disc CD compilations called Q Anthems. Awesome songs, all of them, as the name of the album implies. (it was almost someone's birthday gift but I kept it instead)

Speaking of names, some bloke in the paper Geraint Wong wrote today that the gahmen had remained Bishan Park Bishan-Ang Mo Kio Park. This is the first time I've heard of this change and like Geraint am equally surprised and a little appalled. The park's been around for 24 years and now after a full generation has known it such, some bugger thinks changing its name is a good idea. It's like changing someone's name after his entry into adulthood. Weird and wrong. (Unless a sex change was involved.)

This placename thing has been in the papers quite a bit. There was Tommy Koh's thing about Petain Road, named after an infamous French general who farked it up a bit and the French aren't quite proud of anymore. Well it's more downright scorn. Then there was someone writing in about the confusion between Farrer Park and Farrer Road MRT stations. That's a nice apt example how the lack of a Ministry of Common Sense has allowed this deceptive trick enter our transport system. The two places are good several kilometres apart separated by Newton, Balmoral, Stevens, Whitley, old NIE and the Botanic Gardens.

One of my biggest problems is that they've decided to name the train station outside Hwa Chong, Tah Kah Khee station. Some of you might go Tan who? Other will nod in appreciation. He was the guy who founded Chinese High and so some people thought it would nice to name the station after the bloke. Intention's all good but seriously nothing else in the area is named after him. There isn't any location that bears affinity to the man. None I can recall. So picking a name like this out of blue doesn't help anyone much less the residents of the area who will use the station every day, constantly reminded of the fact that things don't quite make sense anymore.

Then there's going to be a trio of Tampines stations in Tampines. Two of them will have a 'east' and 'west' appended to the estate names. I can already imagine the lost aunties, laden with vegetables from the market, waiting in vain for fellow oldies who are similarly clueless at other Tampines stations.

Once, girl on the phone, from a travel agency, introduced herself as Carrot. Yes, the root vegetable of Bugs Bunny fame. Alrighty then.

Time will heal this set of wounds I guess unless sanity kicks in sooner.

Last Second Wardrobe Disfunction

So in the last hour, I've had breakfast, brushed the teeth, re-ironed the trousers, sprayed the Hugo on, put all the necessary office attire on, inserted all the implements and tools of daily existence into the right pockets and went to get my shoes. Gave two seconds thought to the colour of the socks i'd be stinking up today (black with grey trim at the top), swung the dining chair nearest the front door to face the escape route, and sat down. RRRRRIIIIPPPPPPPPPP!

Fell apart at the seams. The trousers, not sure how old they are, gave way to generous gap at the seam against my, get this, my right thigh. How odd. Usually it's an equally stressed spot like the bum that enjoys the pleasure of sudden aspiration after a loud tear in the pants. (BTW pants mean underwear to the English and trousers are the proper term for the clothing item I have an issue with morning). I quickly deduced my equally large thighs coupled (don't want to think my right is larger than my left) with my fat wallet led to the literal fashion disaster. Not fat with money but mostly receipts which means I spent money not saved it.

The gaping hole beautifully avoided the pocket seams and progressed nicely down a 8-10cm path from the mid of the pocket downwards, exposing the tucked shirt and boxers and a bit of furry thigh. Sigh. Wrong place for a tear, worse timing for a fashion disfunction. It's not a malfunction like what Janet Jackson had. Her bra got unhooked sort of as Justin was canoodling her on stage exposing her ta-dahs. My pants trauma is a tear. Her problem could've been quickly rectified I guess. Masking tape couldn't save my trousers.

Yes I realise it's strange comparing my calamity to the one a megasuperstar had on stage in front to TV-watching millions. But a problem nonetheless. I had to quickly find and iron another pair (thank goodness the washing dried up nicely) and restart the exit for the day.

Not bad, quite a few fair words about a hole. Not a thesis on black or worm or drinking ones but an actual hole in the pants.

The other realisation that occurred to me while typing away was that all my recent posts are all me, me , me. Terrible egoist in me rearing it's literary head. Horrid. I need to reposition my focus. Well the sky was nice today. Orange dips against low clouds in a baby blue sky.