April, 2007

I will endevaour to make this part of the next seminar I organise.

*****

I get told off quite a bit.

“Here’s something of epiphanic proportions, “I said, “Aku tak nak pursue anything if it leads to future heartbreak. Reject me because of other things but not that, not the one thing I can’t control.”

“Yup. Don’t,” she agreed. “Eh wait, I dunno, ahahahaha,” almost instantly she backtracked. “I dunno.. hearts get broken everyday.”

“Hmm.. or maybe, just maybe.. maybe if i get more people to reject me because of it, then maybe alah bisa tegal biasa.”

She balked. “What kind of fucked up strategy is that? Hahahhaahahhaa. Okay its one thing to get your heart broken. But another to actively pursue that goal, as a goal on its own!”

“See.. if you put your hand in the fire, first second third time it hurts, ” I rationalised.

“Huh?” she interjected. “It’s gonna hurt everytime.”

“No. Fourth time the skin’s so thick or so rosak you don’t feel anything dah.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Skepticism became her. “Is that a biological fact?”

“I dunno, I think so,” I replied. “If the skin tu exposed to fire or other abusive stuff, the cells mati, right? Then you feel nothing.”

“You’d have one ugly ass hand though. So don’t”

“Dude, gloves. That’s what they’re for.”

“Yeah okay. Nak jadi Michael Jackson jadi lah.”

Point made. Her. Not me. Yes. British politics Tony Blair elections council yes I admit you’re right so go lah rejoice Gordon Brown Liberal Democrats vote vote vote.

*****

For fellow Heroes addicts. If you’ve missed any.

The car that I drive to work now has a CD player. This gives me the chance to play some much neglected CDs as I drive to work. I don’t even mind the traffic jams much anymore. Today I stuck Bon Jovi’s These Days into the player. This is the first Bon Jovi album I owned as a compact disc.

When I first met Jon Bon Jovi and his band of merry men, I was a kid with issues (which kid wasn’t lah kan?), and songs like Living’ on a Prayer spoke volumes to me. Even though Tommy and Gina were slightly older, but I could still relate to ideas like struggle and hope. And what made it more believable was that Jon himself was still quite a spring chicken. Singing about prom nights, backseats and riding away into the sunset still made sense. I dunno. Somehow it’s not the same when you’re 45, father of four, and still singing ‘old songs about change’.

Driving past the Brook Street junction while listening to Jon lament that he is so sad coz he wanted it so bad for them, and that if the love that he has is gone, and the river he cried ain’t that long.. it made me cringe that that was a love song. When he wrote that he was married, he had a kid.. why was he writing about misguided ventures in love? Surely, six albums down the line the lyrics could be about something more substantial. Although that doesn’t mean that men who are relatively mature shouldn’t write or sing love songs. Frank Sinatra and Johnny Cash did okay with them. Maybe it’s just that the lyrics to most of Bon Jovi’s stuff is dripping with not just cheddar, but perhaps edam and red leicestershire for good measure.

Or maybe it’s just that they’re so bad, they’re good. I don’t know. But I know what you’re thinking. If you can’t stand the stuff, then chuck it out the window and stick something worthwhile in. Yeah, I know. But that stuff’s potent nostalgia, man. And you can’t beat driving in the sunshine with a dose of the good old days blaring out of the speakers.

*****

I have no idea what these flowers are called

*****

What are the odds, eh, on the back of finishing Rob Sheffield’s Love is a Mix Tape, that suddenly appears yet another entry on mix tapes? Or mix CDs or whatever.

There is a CD booklet and a half in my car that are all mix CDs. Some are carefully labelled. Traffic jam songs. Late night rain songs. And the mischeviously labelled, wake-up songs which are really a mix of favourites from Postal Service / Death Cab for Cutie / Dashboard Confessional, which, if you need a jolt in the morning as you drive, is not quite what you want to hear. It may also result in the listener being curious as to the reaction of the CD owner as to what constitutes ‘wake up’, and how she’d react to speed metal.

The bulk of my mix CDs are not labelled though. Or just labelled as: Mix CD or Disc 1 or Songs. There are a few which are merely labelled .wav, to contrast I suppose, from .mp3 CDs. The lack of labels are as much intentional as well as a function of general laziness. I like the anticipation of not remembering what song comes next. It’s a bit like sticking everything into one major playlist on iTunes or Winamp, and then pressing the randomiser button. You just wait and become delightfully surprised. Or otherwise.

But upon listening to the songs I can always pinpoint, even not perfectly, to the general era when the CD was made. One that was labelled Compilation III last night had 10,000 Maniacs, Vanessa Carlton, Avril Lavigne, Fuel, Beverly Craven, Gin Blossoms and Sister Hazel on it. I know where that came from – those were the Muadzam Shah days.

There exists an incarnation of that mix in tape format. What it was, was that my car didn’t have a cd player then. So I burned a copy of these songs onto CD from my mp3 set, and then used a cd/casette player to dub that onto tape. Such effort. The choices were influenced by songs that have always kept me going, and the stuff on the Red 104.9FM airplay. Although I don’t know how Beverley Craven fits any of those two, but Promise Me has always hovered in one of my playlists or the other.

I usually played this mix tape as I’m nearing Seremban or Bangi (read: civilisation). For the trek from Muadzam to Kuala Pilah via Felda Keratong, a road that is lonely as it was desolate, I often had Raihan or a nasyid mix in the player. I figured, if I was going to be robbed, jumped or attacked by unknown bandits there, maybe they’d spare me if they hear nasyid songs. Or if there were going to leave me for dead, well at least I had Raihan to accompany me. Even if they reminded me that iman tak dapat diwarisi.

Rob Sheffield’s mix tapes have frequently re-occuring songs. Am glad I’m not the only one. So far I’ve noticed that Don Henley & Patty Smyth’s Sometimes Love Just Ain’t Enough and Sister Hazel’s Happy feature heavily, the former in recent times, the latter in earlier times. I also found a CD that didn’t belong to me. It said ‘Jane 6′ on it. I stuck it in the CD player, curious to see what songs were on it more than anything. I knew during what time that CD belonged to: Leeds-York 2005. Dude, I know you blame ZT but yo.. your taste in music.. (Kudo: dia ada R&B! Marah dia!)

It has come to the point that I am driving the back country roads on weekends just because I want to check out what these mysterious CDs have on them. I’m glad I never wrote what tracks were on them. I sang along to Better Than Ezra’s A Lifetime for the first time in many moons today. It’s a brilliant distraction.