Why Would I Write

Category: Thoughts

  • How’s it going?

    When white people say “How’s it going?” they don’t really care about your day. It’s just a greeting.

    This was a note that I saved on my phone in June last year. I realized that when I was traveling a lot for work and everybody would say that to me. Initially, I’d respond by telling them how it was going. “Oh, I’ve been very busy.” “Oh, life’s alright.” and so on. It took me to realize that it was just a greeting and people didn’t care about how my life was going. I thought that was pretty funny because nobody does that here in Malaysia. In my experience, if people ask you how’s it going, they want to know how things are going with you.

    Not many people in the remainder book industry that I met were smokers. The handful who smoked, I got along with pretty well, sharing cigarettes and conversation out in the cold weather after meals. Not sure if that helped with lowering the prices for the books we purchased, but I’d like to think so! Smoking gave me time alone which was good. It was nice to take a break every now and then, especially when you were traveling with the same people for a month straight. I cherished the breaks I had. It allowed me to recharge. Dr. Pepper in one hand, cigarette in another.

    Driving a car in the UK was also a fun experience. For the first few days, I was worried about my car stalling whenever I had to stop. Eventually, that fear went away and operating a manual car became second nature. Except when it came to roundabouts. Man, I clenched my butt cheeks every time we arrived at one. Fortunately, we did a lot of night driving so traffic wasn’t a big issue. I used Google maps to navigate, so I never got lost getting anywhere. I was definitely a much slower driver than my boss then, but I guess it was expected – I don’t even speed when I’m in KL.

    No idea when I’ll drive again in the UK, but for now I’m content with KL’s roads. Especially for the next week, when all the immigrants go back to their hometowns for Chinese New Year. Kek. I’m probably going to lose money gambling, but sitting around a table with friends is worth the entrance fee.

    Isn’t it great living in Malaysia? We get way more public holidays than we deserve – but I’m not complaining about it.

  • Kill The House Lights

    So, for the past few days I’ve been busy with the death of a family member and I’ve learned a few things from the experience.

    Crying is contagious. Holding back tears could be a sport, like tickling competitions.

    Wakes and funeral services aren’t cheap. I’m not kidding when I say that it can cost as much as a car to have one of these events (probably due to the provider our family used, I’m sure there are cheaper alternatives out there). It might just be me, but I can’t begin to fathom why people would spend so much on someone who will have no idea what goes on after they have departed from this world. Sure, it’s a sign of respect and all that jazz, but honestly, I still believe in not having a funeral. All the money spent could have been put towards many other things that people can actually appreciate, but hey – it’s not my money so I don’t get a say. I mean for goodness sake, you buy a nice box to put a body in – just to incinerate it a few days later. And people chide me for smoking cigarettes. At least I get some enjoyment out of it.

    Did you know that the only difference between a casket and a coffin is in the design of the box? I thought they were interchangeable words. I had to google it to find out.

    I thought it was pretty morbid showing my grandpa where grandma’s urn would be stored. Hers took up half of the storage area and his urn is supposed to be placed in the other half. I wonder if he even understood what had happened and what was going on. He didn’t say anything about it. He also tried to shift gears and pull the hand brake while I was driving him home. I stopped him from doing it, of course. Would have been a messy sight if anything happened.

    Trying to recruit people to join your religion during a wake is a dick move. I don’t care if that’s your mission in life as a pastor, but there’s a time and place for everything and hijacking a mourning ceremony for brownie points is not the way to go. I’m glad nobody came forward that night. Nobody comes to these events to be converted, it’s not some MLM free training bullshit event. Idiot.

    And while we’re on the topic of conversions, how are deathbed conversions acceptable? I honestly don’t understand. People who are desperate to survive will say and agree to anything if they think it gives them a chance to live. It’s like telling a criminal to confess to a crime so he will be given a lighter sentence – and then sentencing him to a lifetime in prison anyway because he confessed. Why do religions even accept conversions under such circumstances? Isn’t it as valid as information given under duress? It may or may not be honest, there’s no way to tell. Just let people be. Is it so hard to let someone live their remaining days out without trying to get them to believe in your higher power?

    Rest in peace, grandma.

  • It’s just nice to know you’re not alone.

    It would be typical to say things like, I know I wish I had spent more time with you while you were still around. But we both know that isn’t true. Regardless, I shall write about the times I can remember. All the trips to the cinema with you and grandpa when I was younger is probably one of the reasons why I love film. The Sunday morning Dim Sum meals were a good reason to skip church. The countless trips to Port Klang for seafood taught me I was mildly allergic to shellfish. You calling me George and not by my Chinese name cemented the fact that nobody would ever use it (remains true till today).

    I also learned that Genting Highlands was a great place to relax, especially for the older crowd. I also learned that Hakka was similar to Cantonese – not that I was proficient at either dialect. Trying to talk to you was always a challenge. Something I’ll dearly miss.

    This year’s Chinese New Year isn’t going to be the same again. No more delicious food or angpows that had more money than we deserved for being little shits. The fire crackers at your house was always the loudest. I doubt they were legal, but hey – it was so much fun wading through the sea of red paper in the aftermath.

    Taking care of grandpa was something you were the best at. I wonder if he’ll realize that you’re finally gone. You’ve lived a long and wonderful life, and raised wonderful children and grandchildren. While it saddens me that you’re now gone from this world, it’s for the best. You’re in better place now. Rest in peace, grandma.