Nothing is as responsible for the good, old days than a bad memory. – Humorist Robert Benchley

I suppose the one constant in my life is that everything seems to have changed.

My daughter rolls her eyes when I talk of the good old days. To her, that’s any period before there was Velcro. You have to feel for Archie Bunker: “What happened to the good old days, when kids were scared of their parents?”  

And I’m 67.  Consider people like Dr M. What, for instance, would be his idea of the good old days? Those halcyon times with Maharaja Lela, his old classmate from British Malaya days? Then again, at 97, he has an inherent advantage: he doesn’t have to put up with peer pressure.  

A lot has changed since I was a child and not necessarily for the better. No one had an air conditioner in their homes when I was growing up, but you didn’t need one. It always seemed to get chilly at nights when the fan was switched on and we actually needed blankets. 

It’s different now. Air-conditioning in Singapore – where we live – is essential at nights as it’s warmer because of the greater humidity. In any case, our apartment doesn’t come with any fans. It tells you a lot about the city state. 

Its founding father, Lee Kuan Yew, even picked air-conditioning as “the secret” to Singapore’s success. It may be the reason why most places in Singapore have an Artic chill about them: your glasses remain fogged a great deal longer when you leave a building than they would in KL. 

Back to the old days. You could see the stars at night, at least when I was growing up in Seremban. The funny thing is, I don’t remember when I stopped seeing them. You get so busy growing up that you just don’t notice; things tend to just slip away. 

I have an impression that, like Lat cartoons, things were a lot more innocent then. My father didn’t always lock up the house at night, for instance, and my wife tells me they never did in Malacca. It could be a function of living in a small town, but you see my point. 

I don’t remember if our school canteens were halal or not. Certainly, no one seemed to particularly care nor raised a fuss.  

Life was a lot more laid back then with people seeming less judgmental. Guinness Stout, an alcoholic beverage of no small potency, was routinely advertised in the Malay newspapers with its readers being advised that it was “good for you.”

I can’t remember the Pan-Malayan Islamic Party – the forerunner to the current Pas – waxing hysterical about it. The “live and let live” spirit seemed palpably more genuine then. 

I’m not sure if I’m looking at the past through the sepia-tinged tones of nostalgia. But I doubt it. Back then, there was more humour and less of the rabid hysteria being exhibited by some Pas leaders nowadays. 

Something seems to have changed irrevocably.

And stupidity is on the rise. A parliamentarian – from Pas, predictably – took issue with the uniforms of nurses claiming that it could be distracting as it – the pant suit – was “figure hugging.”

And to think nurses wore skirts right up to the 90s.

I rest my case.

ENDS