Saturday, October 25, 2008

Loving It

I had not seen my nieces for quite a while. Longer yet was a time when I had them in my car. Today, I had the opportunity to correct it. I drove us out for lunch.

As I drove off my sister's house with my parents and three nieces, one of my niece requested me to turn on the radio which I gladly complied. As I drove along, I suddenly realized that I had to raise my voice in order to be heard. On top of the radio, my nieces had been talking non-stop. Occasionally, when a song they like came on air, they'd sing along. Not in harmony.

Frankly, it sent shock waves through my system. I had just spent two hours driving with my parents up North to my sister's and we had had small conversations with music on the background. But this, this was like in a crowded room with everyone talking.

Thinking my nieces were too engrossed in their conversations, which had turned into a debate about songs and they were humming some Korean songs, I turned the radio off. Their conversations continued unabated and petered out after a minute or two. "Hey, there's no music", then the youngest chirped . "I didn't think you need music as you were singing your own songs," I said. "Aunt, don't you know - we can't live without music", said the eldest.

I commented on this to my parents, for which they responded that during my generation, we would all sit quietly in the car throughout the trip even though there were six of us in the small beetle car. And some of our trips could last up to six hours for those journeys back to my dad's hometown.

All this got me thinking. Growing up, we did not have the luxury of radio in the car, MP3 and MTV. The one radio I remembered was about 1'x8"x3" on which we used to played cassettes. Our favourite was the soundtracks from movie Grease. Ah, John Travolta and Olivia Newton John. My sisters and I, I don't recall my brother ever participating in these sessions, would sit out in the verandah with the radio and shout out the lyrics. "Reproduction...na na na nah...". Looking back, and realizing now what those lyrics meant, I think my parents must had been horrified. God bless them, they never stopped our fun. We were aspiring singers then, each believing in the goodness of our voice and talent. I tell you, my parents and neighbours must had been saints. In those weekly singing sessions, we had sang loudly, each of us trying to drown the voices of others. And I'm tone deaf!

Those were the good old days. I wondered what my brother did during those times. Must ask him one of these days. Perhaps I'll email him. And I would still drive my nieces around because although the noise level increases when they are in the vicinity, I still adore them.

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