Time crawls when you are young,walks when you are an adult,runs when you are middle aged, and flies when you are old

With Andrew in 2008. 

       It seems that time is a much limited resource, with money, any enterprising person can work out a novel business idea, flesh it out, attract investors and 'Voila', the game is on. With time, unfortunately, once the time has passed, that is the end of it. No going back to the day, where you could just lace up your shoes, on a hot afternoon, head out the door, and run 10K just for the fun of it.  That is an activity only for the young and fit. For many of us, we never see the day coming, when, for example, our backs will not ache from stiffness, or lower back pain is a daily occurence, joint pain and aches are a daily affair.  Age is but a number, some may say, but tell that to my middle aged body !

         I remember in my very young days in primary school, when I became aware of time, around 5 years or so, it passed by so slowly, in the 60s, it was days upon days of just playing catching spiders, flying kites, making new friends, practising kungfu fighting (Bruce Lee was BIG in those days) and watching the Malay boys at the neighbourhood kampungs run out and jump into then canals and drains whenever a heavy downpour occurred, and the drains were overflowing with brown rainwater running off from the hill we lived in. My family lived comfortably in a house in Adis Road, off Wilkie Terrace and we had 2 girls schools as next door neighbours. 

          My father kept 3 'pariah' (no breed) dogs called Jippy, Mickey and Scamper. They were our constant companions and we played with our neighbours like there was no tomorrow ! The neighbourhood kids were of many races, and nobody really cared if you were of a different colour. For us, it was just enjoying being young and carefree. Day after day was nothing more than coming home from school, changing up to our home clothes and out the door. I did not recall doing any major homework (not of the volume and deadlines of today), and it was a no-brainer to pass the year end exams.  It was a real joy and experience living in those uncomplicated times where the only concern I had was whether my PSLE scores would be 4 As or something like that. 

         Studying for any subjects at my primary school was almost unheard of, we were taught by teachers and teaching was more for imparting knowledge of the subject rather than being competent in answering questions for the exams. Definately not the high pressure and ultra-competitive environment of today  ! 

      Two or Three particular incidents stand out in my mind, 1. was during primary 2, I and another friend Jin Kiat, came back late from our tuckshop, and we rushed back to class to see our entire class squatting outside the classroom next to the open drain and brushing their teeth. This was during the 'oral hygiene' period   whereby the Ministry of Education was emphasising the importance of brushing teeth as a means of oral hygiene and givign away free toothbrushes and toothpaste.

Andrew in 2008

2. Was in Primary 3, I had failed my 'Ting Xie' and Mrs. Pang, the Chinese teacher would call me up in front of class and gave my ear a hard twist. The sound of the soft tendons cracking still resonate today. Corporal punishment was rife in those days and we lived in fear of the 'fierce' teachers such as Mrs. Pang.

 

3. was in Primary 6, we were having our Art exam, and Ho Keen Fai, the class bully, was doing his exam, when my good friend Edward Ong, happened to drop a glass stink bomb accidently in the middle of the exam. The teacher, Mrs. Violet Ang stormed out of the class for a breather and Keen Fai took the stink bomb and proceeded to handcarry to all the boys he controlled to give them a whiff ! Luckily I was in his good books so he spared me ! 

         Such carefree and innocent times. I naively thought they would never end. Before I knew it, I am now middle aged and with 2 strapping teenagers worying about theur CAs, SAs, Preliminarys and now 'O' Levels. 

         We can never go back, but these memories are the balm which keep us sane and happy when times get tough. In the words of the Bob Dylan song, "Times they are a changin, ".