September
09, 2002
another meaning of jam
Listening to: Marilyn Manson - Mechanical
Animals
Reading: the newspaper - eeeeek!
Technically it's already tomorrow, 1:30 am. But hey, for me
the next day doesn't start till I sleep and wake up to sunshine.
I reached Kedah and unusually, it was a heavenly heavy downpour. For once the ground isn't smoking hot. But ironically we can't afford to walk on it long either. A quick run to the house to face my grandmother (whom my entire family addresses as 'Tok')'s comments of welcome and laments on our choice of clothing.
Fortunately her eyesight isn't what it used to be and my mum's subtle highlights escaped criticism. She speaks with a thick Kedah dialect. She forgot her teeth in the bathroom. So my sister and I didn't have a clue about what she rambled on about.
My grandfather ('Wan') makes these incredible sounds during meals, kind of like he's coughing, sneezing, wheezing, crying, and ultimately suffering all at once Every time I sit at dinner with him I feel like describing it all over again, even though I know I must have attempted to several times before. His health is decaying.
My mother and I showered Tok & Wan with strawberries from Cameron, along with a few jars of jam and honey. Tok ceased babbling immediately and instead gushed and gurgled, content. After dinner that night I resolved not to eat jam till New Year's.
My first day here and it was fascinating. Spent time at the house next door (not coincidentally, my eldest uncle + family) playing a computer game (Max Payne) with Kamal, one of my cousins who also drove up from KL, and Madi (it's his computer). Madi's a drummer, and arguably one of the coolest Kedah cousins.
Max Payne was fun. Kamal would be at the keyboard and I'd maneuver the mouse, and we'd shoot everybody we saw using the slo-mo technique. Everytime we did so we put in our own sound effects and found it reason to laugh our asses off.
Then Madi suggested that we follow him to his twice-weekly jam session with his band. He said we could see 'the master at work', we could try vocals, and we'd meet his cool friends.
His friends were cool. The guitarist -- I'll call him Malam -- was a bloke so tanned that Kamal and I didn't believe him when he said he was Chinese. He had a hairband pulling back his lovely mane of rasta-curls. We discussed hair tips and I attacked him with guitar FAQ. He took on vocals when Kamal's voice got scratchy. The bassist (who owned the jamming studio) was a chain smoker and had one good eye, the other only showed whites. He was in a way, very cute.
The studio was very makeshift, office space on the second floor almost empty except for a table, seats, lights, a table fan and a door leading to the studio. Despite the worn look of it, it felt homey. They threw black cushions on one side of the studio for the audience members (head count: 2).
I decided not to sing. I couldn't have possibly outsung the drums and guitars.
The three of them were awesome. Maybe I'm bias, because it's my cousin on the drums and it's Kedah and I haven't really seen a rock band play live. They played cover songs of course, Nickelback, System of A Down, Fuel (my request), Linkin Park, etc etc. Malam was awed at my love for rock and kept doublechecking with me about the lyrics he sang.
I couldn't reach Mollick so I called Norah and asked if she knew the beginning to Hero (by Chad Kroeger, Josey Scott, Tyler Connolly, & Matt Cameron), since all five of us miraculously forgot it. She heard the music even though I was out of the studio and she incredulously asked "Where are you?!" and I told her Kedah. She was shocked and I guess I couldn't blame her (btw she didn't know the beginning to Hero but I remembered later).
The northern part of Malaysia is almost absolutely rural-religious. Needless to say rock music didn't fit the picture. But the warung (like a hawker stall) downstairs didn't complain much. We had teh tarik (a fabulous kind of tea) there later.
At home we all watched Miss Universe 2002. I couldn't stand to watch it but yet I couldn't really pull myself away. Any guys (and girls) who saw it wouldn't have regretted it much because of the amazing number of sizzling eye candy. I don't remember if I had any favourites.
Beauty contests really are a culmination of the effects of fashion's influence and ugly grip on today's women. It's one big bag... a dizzy, award-winning mix of dazzling teeth, lipstick shades, hair, skin, surgery, and twinkling, hopeful eyes craving acknowledgement.
So sue me, I've yet to see Miss Congeniality. I doubt it'd even change my opinion anyway.