OK, that’s enough jumping around and shouting “We’re number one”, now we get to write something more important which presents me with the other problem. What could be more important then jumping around the place while shouting “We’re number one”?
Oh yeah, that’s right. Chinese New Year is around the corner which in Malaysian terms means that it’s another festive season and a shit assed long holiday ahead. As far as I know it, there won’t be any music gigs until the 2nd which gives me plenty of time to bum around for that well deserved rest…or not. This is a perfect time for me to get my blog theme up to speed…not to mention prepare another little surprise for a close friend of mine.
Aside from that, I don’t think I’ll be doing much house visiting these days. It’s not just that I’m too old, it’s also that I realised that so many friends do happen to be going back to their hometown for Chinese New Year. Not like that has stopped me before, so I’ve going to go with the “I’m older” excuse. I mean, I remember an age when I used to arm myself with a backpack, some good shoes and my best behaviour and just go from house to house to collect Ang Pao.
I’d have the whole
heist route planned out. Which houses to go first because they are close friends which have the most loot and more importantly, great food. I’d leave the other target of opportunities along the way, who usually were people I knew but aren’t close with. I’d keep those fast. Go in wish them well, collect Ang Pao money, have some food with some small talk then leave in as short time as possible. I didn’t randomly visit houses of people I didn’t know because, come on…I may have been a kid then, but at least I had some humility and when all your friends happen to be chinese, rest assured I didn’t have to stoop lower than I already did.
By the time the main Chinese New Year celebrations (which are like the first two days, the other
12 13 days have their significance in their own way but not many non-chinese people are aware of it) were over and if I’m lucky, I could rake up between 600 to 1000 bucks in raw hard cash. And when you’re still in primary school with some of your milk teeth left in your mouth, 1000 bucks to you seems like you just won the freaking billion dollar lottery or something. That gives me all the reason to be happy for a while, usually while jumping around the room while shouting “We’re number one” at the top of my lungs. I stopped doing that for real and started doing in my head after my parents thought I was annoyingly crazy and told me to shut up.
Still…those were the fun days alright. Days in which you have no idea where they went and when you grew out of it. Days in which innocence was unquestionable and you were invincible. Days in whereby for those moments in the year, your handmade name card said “Professional Ang Pao Money Hunter” and there was nothing anyone could do to stop you. Days when you could get your hands on what resembled a million billion dollars. Those were days alright.
Until that other festival comes and you become the Professional Duit Raya Collector, but that of course is another story.