Smiling For Dalilah (Scenes from Kg. Labuhan Dagang)

I DON'T HAVE much to say here 'cept good-bye, Dalilah...

For a kick-off, don't you think it's a strange coincidence that my last posting was EXACTLY a year ago? July 19, 2009? Yes, that's when we lost Bang Captain...

A-ny-ways...

Hey, my missus was a bit upset when you became the second woman (besides her that is) to sit in my low-slung, mid-life-crisis coupe... heh heh. No other woman (yet) besides you and her has had that honor, che-wah...

Anyway, she was cool bout it later. Really. Hey, it's THE Raden Galoh after all!

Today, she saw you an hour after you drew your last breath this morning, dear, And when the nurses and the ladies went out of that curtained partition around your bed, I too went in and drew the curtains around so we could have our privacy and say my piece to you.

You look so lovely with your full head of hair, D. So serene. No, I did not shed a tear for you D because I was actually happy for you. It's time you were released, dear...

Me? No regrets for you laa, D. You've led a heck of a life, didn't you?

You will be sorely missed by all whose lives were once touched by you. That's a given, D.

You've gone and left us bereft, and in mourning.

Gone, yes gone. But I do not doubt that you will ever be forgotten, my dear Dalilah.

Love and Peace.

-Mat Salo

Bereaved father (right)

Bereaved mother

Lives In The Balance: Party Time!

In my previous post, Pak Aa Gym's story took place the day after. This is about what transpired the night before. In my book it's called redemption, to find a balance between light and dark, the bad and the good.

Saturday night was spent at a very happening Jakarta nightspot called SHY Rooftop on Jl. Kemang Raya. Kemang is a bit like Bangsar at night; where the city's young and beautiful upper-class crowd get to look and be looked at.

Housed on the fifth floor of a very futuristic glass building, SHY has an open area balcony where one can gaze at Jakarta's sprawling skyline while nursing a none-shariah-compliant concoction.

I went there with a friend (whose sex I shall not divulge for fear of repercussions and incrimination) who insisted, "Bang, this is where the artistes bareng (hang out)". And I was not disappointed...

The ambiance was first class, the decor smart and cozy. In Malaysia it would be the size of an average pub housed in a shop lot. There were perhaps thirty to fifty patrons in all, coming and going.

The music? Mostly acoustic guitars with only the bass being amplified, no drums, just bongos and tambourines to the accompaniment of vocals so sweet it will bring tears to your eyes.

SHY being a musician's joint, the band played everything from Jason Mraz to Sting to Bob Marley. Aaah...

The crowd? If I told you I got to dance with Maia would you believe me? I'll let the pictures tell the story.

I even get to jam my Canon Ixus 850iS right in her face.

Ah, drool over, because everything is about balance, right?







Roy Marten's son, Gading, inadvertently shared a table with me. Apparently he's following in his Dad's footsteps, making a name as actor. I couldn't tell him from Adam until my friend whispered in my ear who that guy across the table was.

Maia Estianty? Everyone knows Maia,the hottest woman in showbiz. She's currently undergoing a very public divorce with mogul Ahmad Dhani, fighting a bitter battle over their three children Al, El and Dul. The kids are also musicians in a band called Lucky Laki, managed by the male parent, who at present has custody. Not a day goes by here in Indonesia where one isn't bombarded by news of Maia and Ahmad Dhani's woes spelt out in gritty detail... I really wanted to ask her how she handled the pressure of it all, but it wasn't a good time. I felt that she wanted to be left alone and I could respect that. Hey, being the subject of gossip and slander by tens of millions, day in day out, must be terrible. Ever since that Ahmad Dhani took up with Mulan, Maia's duet partner in Ratu...

"Rainbow Warrior" aka Laskar Pelangi

Best movie I've seen in a long while, folks. And that includes all the Hollywood ones.

An adaptation from Andrea Hirata's novel, the first of the tetralogy, this movie broke all box office records in super-populous Indonesia.

You'd think with rampant ciplaking and DVD bajakan going on, people won't flock to the big screen any more. But they still do. Especially when a real good movie comes along, they still line the velvety ropes, don't they? Great movies are best savored on the big screen, as God had intended them to be. Not on your plasticky grey China-made 21 incher in the old 4:3 format.

Even President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono was not spared by the movie's impact. He forced his whole cabinet to watch at a legislative sitting - just so his reps can truly appreciate the failings of Indonesia's public school system.

All this was almost a year ago.

Hmmm.

And it still hasn't hit the big screens at our glitzy cineplexes in 1-Utama or Mid-Valley either.

Poor culture-starved folks in Malaysia can only settle for generic (and forgettable) horror fare like Setan Budeg.

A gross injustice has been perpetrated here, man. I almost feel compelled to write to Cathay and TGV, the main movie distributors in Bolehland, and ask - Why?

I live and work in Indonesia - each time I come home to Malaysia I open the movie listings page with trepidation - and disappointment.

Notchetyet, lah.

It's been so long that even the official DVD has hit the shelves here in Indonesia. I've been raving about it to my family so much that I already bought some to bring home. Just to feed their curious anticipation too.

The DVDs are in my laptop bag right this moment and coming home to a private screening at my cluttered living room on my 32" CRT TV soon. Belum ada Plasma laa bang...

Cinematography? - Top Rate.

Acting Cast / Ensemble? - Brilliant. Cut Mini Theo is beautifully cut out for her role as the early seventies Ibu Muslimah. Supporting casts include stellar Indo thespians like Ikranagara, Tora Sudiro, Jajang C. Noer, and Alex Komang. But the kiddie actors, as in Slumdog, is what this movie is all about. Folks, you're going to shed plenty of tears. Don't say I didn't warn you!

The actors had to undergo intensive training in Bahasa Melayu to perform their roles convincingly. And after watching it you can almost believe that you are watching a Melayu movie. A "Melayu" movie that became the best-selling ever movie in Indonesia, that is. Imagine that, watching a an "Indonesian" movie - arguably the best ever - in Malay?

According to Cut in an interview, she had "begged" director Riri Reza and producer Mira Lesmana for the role of Ibu Muslimah. Riri was impressed that Cut was able to impart a certain sadness even while smiling, a required trait that landed her the poignant role.

The set direction was flawless. As a child growing up in the 60s and early 70s, Belitung was similar to rural Malaysia as I had remembered it. The producers certainly took great pains to create scenes for this period piece. Great for nostalgia buffs.

Is this the best Indonesian movie I've ever seen?

Yes. Me thinks it deserves and Oscar for Best Foreign Film.

I'm hoping the Malaysian Cathay or TGV distributors will come to their senses and bring it in for release.

Just don't borrow the DVD from me, though. It has already been booked months in advance!

And please don't buy the pirated copy. Besides, it's haram to do so.The original DVD will probably find its way to Malaysia eventually. Better yet, and I'm sure good sense will prevail, Laskar will hit our cineplexes soon.

Better see it on the big screen lah!

N.B.

I was prompted to write this after being inspired by Alina Abdullah's take in her "ranting chanting" blog.

LDTL Stage 5 - The Curve to Genting (Mat Salo's favorite sport!)

This is my third live LDTL event, the previous two a couple of years back. I'm not often home in Malaysia so I was lucky as hell that Stage 5 today started at my front door - literally!

The Petaling Jaya to Genting Stage kicked-off right between Ikano Power Center and The Curve, in front of co-sponsor's VW Malaysia's spiffy showroom to be exact. So all I did was to get on my hand-made Santa Cruz Superlight, a full-suspension mountain bike with my trusty D300 and 18-200 VR II lens slung across my shoulder, my pack of Dunhill's and headed off to The Curve to witness the start.

Did I tell you back in '04, at almost 45 years of age, I borrowed a RM 10,000 road bike and entered a UCI-sanctioned 100 km race in Perak? I finished fourth in my age category, barely missing the podium. But I was at least an hour behind the leader's though! I think there's hardly a sport greater than cycling, imagine day-in day-out going flat out for hundreds of kilometers a day until the end of the tour. The Tour De France, of course is the greatest of all - covering 3000 km in three weeks. How can anyone possibly do it? Doping? Naaah...


Yesterday's Malacca to Bangi Stage Winner - young upstart Samai of Indonesia who clocked an average of 42.08 km/hr for the 221 km run - that's faster than most non-rempits's kapcai I gather.

Wishing Anuar Manan of Team Malaysia well...

Lim Yew Meng and Indonesia's Samai, pros for Le Tua Cycling Team

Stretch 'em, dudes...

Samai acknowledging the crowd when called to the podium to "encore" yesterday's performance with teammate Jeremy Yates of New Zealand.

One of my all-time favorite Iranian cyclists - Ghader Misbani. He's done this since the inception, always posting impressive results.

Le Tua's Razif Salleh, nursing some stitches and abrasions from recent crashes.

Don't look let the "toy boy" look fool you. This Jap is a serious contender!

And they're off!

South African's Nolan Hoffman, yesterday's Malacca to Bangi Green Jersey holder checkin' out his rear...

Yanks Euser and Duggan of Team Garmin Slipstream (in blue, flanked by Team China) discussing whether they can ever be the next Lance Armstrong.

Made a new friend today, canine lover, TheStar's columnist, wheelchair activist, and get this - merangkap MBPJ councillor Anthony T who came as a VIP guest.

Anthony T demonstrating to me the workings of MBPJ's "mobility van". Thanks, bro'.

Columbian Jose Rodolfo Serpa Perez, today's eventual Genting's conquistador!

Blog Bash - A Bit Player's Perspective

MAT SALO, Tokasid, Shah Cakapjer, Kerp and Dato' Jaffar had some months earlier decided on an end of year blog bash, a bash to end all bashes - a tit for tat response to last week's wildly successful Indonesian Pesta Blogger, an event spearheaded by their information minister and sanctioned by its government. Fuuyooo. Since bloggers in Bolehland are vilified scum (as decreed by Syed Albar, Razak Baginda & Co) so a private initiative was deemed necessary. We do not believe, in the near-term at least, the Malaysian government care to sanction such an inane gathering of unlike-minded individuals...

But what do we care? The point is to gather a diverse group of losers, has beens, washouts and sprinkle it with a dash of winners and wannabes and see what comes out of the mix.

Also, it was to coincide with Chegu Kata Tak Nak's visit to KL to grade exam papers, or so we were erroneously told. It turned out he was here to audition for the inaugural Bloggers Idol...

The upshot was some bloggers finally came out of the woodwork, and truth be told, some were sorely disappointed that their heroes and heroines turned out to be, well,  - your boringly average Mat and Minahs.

The men are mostly thick in the middle and sometimes thick in the head, with receding hairlines, graying and are notoriously poor dressers to boot. Take Mat Salo. He came in a tee shirt which Lady Elviza promptly commented, 'as one size too small'. This was deliberate on Mat Salo's part you see, a rather sly attempt to accentuate his biceps but unfortunately had the unintended effect of emphasizing his belly. That man needs a stylist, yessir. Yeah like a fish needs a bicycle. If you really must know, MS has never owned a comb nor uses deodorant. The bar soap (always industrial strength Dettol) when he showers also doubles as shampoo. Furthermore he has a distaste for underwear (the local variant known as spender), and considers Lynnard Skynnard's Free Bird as the greatest rock ballad of all time, surpassing Led Zep's Stairway even.

But the women? Oh the women! They were all beautiful, just as God had intended them to be. Especially Raden Galoh, who 'escaped' from the cancer ward this morning just to be with us. She looked so radiant and happy, showing us it's certainly possible to stare death in the face, and with her strong unwavering faith, still come out smiling. She still has a long way to go but for our sakes dear God, we need her around just to show us mere mortals what life and love is all about.

And Acciaccatura too. Her strength lies beyond our human scope to comprehend. So is Pi Bani, whose selfless devotion to helping people with HIV/AIDS is legendary.

Tok Mummy, Nuraina Samad, Wanshana, Jeejah Mantra, Fauziah Ismail, Galadriel,Nurbaiti and celebrity lawyer-blogger Elviza were all present to give us the much need glamor, glitz and sex appeal.

But I haven't made an exception to the men have I? There are, of course, always exceptions.

Former High Court jude Dato' Syed Ahmad Idid was among the first to arrive. He is not a blogger but a guest of our fellow conspirator Dato' Jaffar Lamri. Unfortunately DJ himself could not attend due to an urgent family matter so unfortunately too for the learned judge, he was forced to have ME instead as his Host from Hell: listening to my stupid jokes while I blew smoke in his face. 

For those of you with short memories (and for some, shorter ahem) Dato' Syed is the Last Malaysian Hero. He was a High Court judge from 1990-1996 when he made the startling allegation of corruption involving twelve of his fellows in the judiciary. This was about ten years ago during the reign of CJ Tun Mohd Eusoff Chin and Tan Sri Mohtar Abdullah. Not forgetting too the CEO of the Land at the time was Tun Che Det. The 'flying letter' episode had caused him to be investigated instead, forcing his resignation and losing his pension in the process. That's why it is so important that we get our lawmakers to pass our own Whistleblower Act. 

Ten years down the road the good judge was still subjected to another degrading ordeal: listening to Mat Salo's 'oilfield thrash' stories and inhaling second-hand smoke from his endless Dunhills. My apologies Dato', for being a such lousy host. I understand Your Honor frowns upon judges to mingle with riff raff  like me. But for you to bear such indignities in silence speaks volumes of the man you are, Sir. Thank you.

Of course the other exception was our guest of honor Chegu Kata Tak Nak. To me he looks even better in real life that tweaks in my Nikon settings could never do justice. Well, some people just have it. And this good chegu has it in spades.

Even Dato' A. Kadir Jasin showed up and slapped some fifties in my grubby hands. It's for the pot, you see. Thanks for coming, Dato' AKJ. And I do envy your waistline, Sir!

Other notable attendees (ALL were notable, mind you): Mute Audio, Al-Husseyn, Pak Idrus, Pokku, Bunga Telur Ballyshoes and not forgetting (arguably) the best (living) Malay writer (on Malaysian shores) in the English language: Mat Bangkai.

Finally, PAS Central Committee and Shah Alam Member of Parliament YB Khalid Samad (Yes, Minister Sharir Samad is his brother, believe it or not) came by. In the picture you can see Chegu KTN and him having a go.

As soon as the crowd faded off, A Voice showed up to dish some dirt up on our next generation of Ultra Malay National Organization leaders. Thanks for coming bro'.

Hope you like the photos. They were in-camera shots, hand-held in available light without the benefit of flash. Apologies to the ladies if the wide angled lens err, just made you go 'wide'. Yeah right, blame the equipment, never the photographer.

N.B.

I have also deliberately not attached names to the faces in the hopes that you'd be able to tell anyway. (Truth is, I'm just a fat, lazy slob.)

The Roughneck, A Blue Collar Mid-Week Weekly

To make my blogging more regular, and not to piss off the throngs, hordes and masses (I wish) that come here only to be affirmed, yeah, he's too dumb too make views on politics, world affairs or high-finance. 

So I decided on sort of a weekly opinion pieces to break that myth and hold forth about things that matter to me, me and me. It's important that I satisfy my lust first, before I make you cu- err, happy.

It's my free-wheelin' 'n easy take about the depraved, depressed and dangerous times we live in today.


Barack Hussein

The Roughneck wants this dude to win. Conventional Wisdom (CW) says it will happen. But recently, political pundits and pundeks (to hedge their bets in case the unholy McCain - Palin emerge triumphant) thinks what we're seeing is The Bradley Effect: Barack leads the polls early, and at the very last moment, lose.

And it doesn't make sense.

Why? Because we're humans. Some whiteys are even convinced B.Hussein is Muslim. Whites and Melayus (especially) are at the very core, racist. They tell the pollsters or the public one thing (so their neighbors or whomever will think them as enlightened beings) but in the secrecy of the ballot booth (or closed door UMNO sessions) they'll eventually break down and go for The God-Divined Plan. It's manifest destiny: Only whites, of the superior Aryan race, are fit to lead. Just like the Melayus - but only Melayus from UMNO. And better yet, UMNO Melayus of Indian, Arab or Javanese extraction. Melayus from PKR, PRS, DAP and GERAKAN are now the new Uncle Toms; oftentimes branded Chinese arse-lickers, sell-outs and traitors. I should know, I'm one of 'em.

So if you think Obama is going to win, think again. Think of the majority race there in the Unidos Estadas. Think of the times you say one thing but deep in your heart, you mean just the opposite.

But I hope to dear God I'm wrong.


McCain-Palin (The Unholy)

I just a read a damning expose on McCain in The Rolling Stone. Apparently this Vietnam POW was no hero. When shot down over Hanoi lake, instead of just stating his name and rank, he blabbered to his captors that he was the son of a Navy Admiral to get preferential treatment, an offence which should've got him court martialled. But he's J. McCain III, progeny of 4-star Generals. The story littered with McCain having to drop his father's and grandfather's name on many occasions just to scrape through the Navy. He admitted as much, and was quoted as saying, 'My POW experiences make me a good sell'.

To me, he's just an opportunist of the highest order.

Palin? Palaat lah. Forget the 150,000 dollar wardrobe. The scathing diatribe by Bridget Bardot is what did me. Palin is a disservice to both women and animals. I agree.


The Economy

Stocks? Fuhgeddaboudit. The Roughneck, being un-schooled in the white-collar ways, was persuaded (some say, conned)  by his Finance Department this past June to plonk down 10 percent of his hard-earned monthly salary - each and every month in condemned perpetuity - into purchasing company stock at a special employee price of 15 percent less prevailing market rate on June 31st. At the time it was over US 100.00 a share - about US 85.00. Five miserable months later it hovered around US 40.00 a share. That's half its value gone in a space of a quarter. 

Nowadays, I don't even bother to look. 

Smart, eh?

The real smart thing to do is to buy the shares NOW on the open market, sort of hedging or as a cut-loss measure. But I'm not real smart am I? - on top of being a coward when it comes to high-stakes finance.

But I'm a blue collar roughneck, so I am truly deserving of this folly. But you - with your fancy finance, MBA and accounting degrees - what's your excuse?

Actually I was lucky for a while, right around after the '00 dot-com bust. There was an ex-employee of my company, a University Malaya Physics graduate of the late 70s who went on to do an MBA at Yale and worked on Wall Street before striking out on his own in Milwaukee. I believe he has now traded his red passport for a blue one. So I trusted his brokerage and analysts, gambling (the right word, seen in today's light) up to six-figures of my kids future college fund to play the US market. And play them he did. At one time I held shares in, um, let me see . . . Microsoft, Apple, Tommy Hillfiger, Harley-Davidson, Viacom (MTV, Nickleodeon) - all good. Also, Harrahs and Anheuser-Busch (Budweiser, Sea World) - all bad. Owning shares in the world's largest casino operator and the world's largest brewer is definitely confirming my place where Satan reigns when all I had before had was merely a reservation. Hell, I never even liked Buds. Took me years to divest and samak (perform ablution) on the money. But I suspect I still got one leg in hell already. But hey, I've never been on my high horse, have I?


Indonesia's Pesta Blogger (Blogger's Festival) - November 22

October 27th was Indonesia's National Bloggers Day, an event sanctioned by its government and headed by Muhammad Nuh, Minister of Communication and Information, no less.

The Jakarta Post, in article yesterday, mentioned Ong Hock Chuan as 'Indonesia's top-three' - along with Enda Nasution (dubbed the "Father" of Indonesian Bloggers) and Budi Putra.

Whoa Ong... congrats, bro.

And bye the bye, in an SMS from Rocky The Bru, Jeff Ooi, the blogger (not the MP from Jelutong, at least not in that spirit I don't think) will represent Malaysia for the Pesta Blogger event come November 22.

The Roughneck has mixed feelings about this. His country, Malaysia, will never hold bloggers in such esteem. In fact, bloggers there are held with such contempt and revulsion; looked down with distaste and disdain, fit only to be persecuted and incarcerated like that Raja Petra fler.

In Indonesia, they're feted and celebrated. 

Self-styled arbiters of Malaysian morals like its Home Affairs Minister Syed Hamid, whose late father the Lion of UMNO Syed Jaffar, a Hadhrami Arab-Indonesian who migrated into then Tanah Melayu at the ripe age of 30 - knows something we don't?

No Country for Old Men

Geezer # 1

Geezer #2 and #3 (sorry, didn't catch your blog, G3)

REGRETTABLY THIS ISN'T A MOVIE REVIEW starring Tommy Lee Jones or Josh Brolin or even directed by Ethal or Joel Coen.

Instead, it stars two old geezers. And directed by me, Mat Salo.

They're tough sons of bitches too, I might add.

I bumped into them this morning, something I hadn't expected to happen in a minor fender-bender-kind-of-way. Come on, would you rather bump into these old geezers . . . or some purty young thang with endless legs that will put a bounce to your step and a twinkle in your eye? Not too mention a longing, a stirring, in the --uh, never mind. Furthermore, the distinct possibility of these old timers having lost their marbles cannot be overlooked. But let's be fair: Chances are it's probably as strong the prosecution's case against Anwar or RPK. They haven't lost everything I don't think, oh no, not by a long shot. Least of all is their balls. Because they still talk about sex the way my seven-year old boy talks about video games.

One goes by the name of Zorro, and the other is Din Merican, who calls himself a 'once-reluctant blogger' who has re-muslimmed himself 'the Malaysian DJ blogger', whatever that means. He ain't an 'Merican in case you're wondering because his MyKad says he's as Malaysian as you and me. And to prove it he pulled his wallet out for my scrutiny. That's how bonkers he might appear to some.

Officially he is PKR's version of UMNO's Shabery Cheek, minus the drool trailing the sides of the cheek. His detractors might claim that if Anwar pulls it off, this is the man who might be Malaysia's next Information Minister. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. He needs to get elected or gets appointed senator first. All he and Zorro was guilty off this morning was to pounce on me, with no warrant or anything before proceeding to 'torture' me with Nescafe tarik and chapati in front of Club Shabas...

Now sitting with these geriatric gentlemen got me thinking. What the hell are they doing? Shouldn't they be outside a kindergarten or primary school waiting to pick their grandchildren up or something?

Instead, these geezers took it upon themselves to declare 'war' against the establishment; righting wrongs and fighting injustices in the Malaysian political and civil arena. Plus being an icon and the object of womens fantasies helps. A female lawyer-blogger with a hot bod (you know who you are) once let a hot lovers breath brush my ear, 'We need these old timers to fight for us lah. We can't do it because we have everything to lose. ISA is not cool, okay? We got our kids to think about . . . for them their children already grown-up. They got nothing to lose.'

Coming from a 'hot bod' --lawyer I mean, her logic is hard to refute. But I disagree: there's always something to lose. Mind bending orgasms is one. But why has it got to be so? Why can't normal, clear and level-headed citizens be vocal too? Oh, OK, I get it. I.S.A., cat food and all that.

Think of your little ones and your rice bowl first, right? And the all time number one favorite: What good can one do if one is behind bars or rotting in Kamunting?

I think my friend Sheih Kickdefella has probably heard the same arguments but chose to do what's right. And yes, some pro-UMNO bloggers have accused both him and RPK as 'blogger whores' hired for the sole purpose of bringing down Mr. Rosmah at all cost. Maybe so but you know it ain't so? (Or Bob Dylan would sing: it's all true . . . everything you heard?)

But damn, whether passionately having a discourse about KJ or Mukhriz, or explaining to me the various convoluted conspiracy-tinged 'Get Anwar' or 'Get RPK' schemes, these senior citizens are apt to break into song, usually simultaneously, something even a self-proclaimed amateur musicologist like me find alarming. The tune? It's called 'When The Swallows Come Back to Capistrano'. Before I wrote this post up I was forced to google the song and discovered that:

A) It was a hit by The Ink Spots back in 1940 and went up as high # 4 in that years' hit parade charts,

and,

B) 27 years later the same song was covered by Pat Boone who took it to # 80. I suppose this must be the version they were singing; and that version was in '67, folks. Remember, these are old geezers we're dealing with here.

Let me reproduce the lyrics and tell me what you read into it. Because I don't have a freakin' clue.

When The Swallows Come Back to Capistrano

Words & Music by Leon Rene
Recorded by The Ink Spots, 1940 (#4*)

D9   A7  D             D7     D6    D9   G9    G   G/F#  E7
When the swallows come back to Cap - is - tra - no,

A    Em7  D               B7              E7  Edim  A7
That's the day you promised to come back to me;

D9   A7  D               D7        D6    D9   G9    G   Gm
When you whispered, "Farewell" in Cap - is - tra - no,

A   Em7  D  B7              E7   D9  E7  A7  D  Gm  D
Twas the day    the swallows flew out to the sea.


Bridge:

D7       G       Em7   A7   D
All the mission bells will ring

A7    Edim  Gdim  D    C#7
The chapel choir will sing

F#7              Bm    Bm7/E
The happiness you'll bring

E7        Cdim  E7  A7
Will live in my mem - o - ry


D9   A7  D             D7      D6    D9   G9    G   Gm
When the swallows come back to Cap - is - tra - no,

A     Em7  D  B7              E7    A7     Gdim    D
That's the day    I pray that you'll   come back to me

(courtesy of the The Guitar Guy)


Tell me, have they lost their marbles? Or are we the ones that have lost ours, letting these geezers fight the good fight for us while we fear for our next paycheck?

You tell me.

No country for old men? Maybe it is.

These old geezers may have lost their marbles, but at least they're working hard to reclaim them via their consequences-be-damned blogs.

And for that they deserve our utmost respect.

Me and Geezer #1. Who forced me to don his PKR themed Timberland jacket for the photo opp. Does he strike you as someone who has lost his marbles?

*This post is also dedicated to the other tough sons of bitches like Chegu Nazir, Hantu Laut, Ancient Mariner, Bang Bakaq and Pak Zawi . I implore you to check them out in case you haven't. How old is 'old', you ask. Going by Soi Lek's performance, oldies are goodies. His bedroom skills can put men half his age to shame. But for our purposes, let's just say 50. Because that's when the usually start making E.P.F. withdrawals and look forward to playing with their grandkids. But instead, whacking errant politicians, stupid policy-makers and misguided civil servants have become their raison d'etre.