The Establishment Again
My blog followers will remember that I abhor the pedantic rules of any establishment. My more conservative friends would label me as irreverent, and the more open-minded ones would consider me a laugh-a- minute. I am of the opinion that I am just being rational and practical, trusting my good sense to bend the rules slightly if need be, to get the right things done in the right way.
More than 30 years ago, when Dad kept racks of books and papers from left-wing political leaders, and held discussions on political ideas not aligned to the establishment, he was incarcerated for “conspiracy” and our home got ransacked by burly, glove –clad, clipboard-toting establishment lackeys.
Fast forward 30 years later, I am glad there is a little improvement in the political climate to allow for different points of view. Perhaps, the power of social media left the establishment with no choice but to listen to all forms of public discourse with an open mind. And when negative sentiments appeared in the social space, the establishment could only “urge the majority of Singaporeans to speak out when they do not agree with such comments”.
The Angry Wife Again
Two days ago, I received a letter from the town council requesting that we remove David’s and Joel’s bicycles from the corridor outside our front door. I have lived here for so long, and these bicycles had never posed a problem. Moreover, all the neighbors at every level and along the same floor, had big potted plants lined up outside their front doors too. The width of these potted plants is definitely bigger than our bicycles, hence they wouldn’t pose any restrictions to people walking along the corridor. Unless one is built like the A380, it definitely wouldn’t be a safety hazard as there was ample space along the corridor.
These establishment lackeys were probably looking for something important to do. They had probably walked past our home with a clipboard and decided “1) Ugly angmo – check, 2) expensive bicycles that we can’t afford to buy that are occupying public space – check, 3) 3 annoying dogs in flat – check, let’s just make their lives miserable.”
I went into a fit of rage when we were told to have our bicycles chained downstairs at the bicycle stands instead. This is because, I have on numerous occasions, spotted a lonely bicycle wheel, or bicycle handle still chained to the bicycle stands without the rest of the bicycle attached to it. Theft of bicycles is very common here. Because such incidences appear to be minor crimes, unimportant for anyone to bother about and too petty for the establishment lackeys to shorten their lunch hour to put some effort behind them, many stolen bicycles remain unrecovered.
Years ago, I had an expensive mountain bike stolen from outside my front door. I spent months looking at the rag and bone man, the friendly neighborhood road sweeper, and construction workers from neighboring work sites, with pure disdain, as I conjured images of them scurrying away with my beloved mountain bike across their backs. I did make a police report and I have yet to receive a phone call from them to say “ Sorry madam, your bike is lost forever and because we’re so busy nabbing people who park their bikes outside their homes, we have no time to find yours.”
The Crazy Angmo Again
Throughout this entire episode, David had assumed an approach of resigned calmness. He maintained his composure whilst reading out the notice to me. He just looked at the letter cursorily and said “Oh well, we could find a corner within the living room to place our bikes. When this blows over in a few months, they would forget about it and we’ll just reposition our bikes along the corridor again.” That had absolutely no effect in calming me down. I went into a ballistic frenzy thinking he is letting the establishment win. I felt I have been oppressed! I paid so much for a family pad and I can’t even park our bikes outside our front door! Outrageous! And the only way he thought he could stop my torrent of expletives was to say “Stop raising your voice. Just go play with your cards, talk to a crystal, or burn a candle. You will feel better after.” Well, it’s been 2 days. I haven’t felt any better and I haven’t thought any better about the establishment.
About The Writer:
The writer of this blog post is a 43 year old mother of one, who spreads her time between her day job as a marketeer at a financial institution, her hobby as a certified professional tarot reader and numerologist, and her family which includes a 19 year old son. She's married to a Scot who has been affectionately called "The Crazy AngMo" and prays that he does not find out that the term when translated, has labeled him as a "Ginger Head".