Hidden cookies, Brasso invective, Elgar reprise

'Why aren't you eating my cookies?' chef Maiyuu asked.

He was referring to the sensible looking slice which you see above. It's chewy, but looks too wholesome, perhaps because it lacks icing.

They are cookies, Maiyuu insists, though they still look too bland and healthy for my palate.

Maiyuu made a large batch, enough to fill the baking tray you see here. What to do when the boyfriend is an unwilling eater?

A good chef can't just leave them there, because it looks as if he has failed. He must hide them instead. Last night Maiyuu placed half his cookies in the plastic containers you see above.

They live on glass shelves above the dining table, where no one will notice them. We could bring them out for guests, except we never have them.

If I get desperate, I will eat them. In the meantime, they will serve as decorations, okay?

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Bottle him up

You just can't keep a good man down.

The bane of my blogging life, Mr Anonymous, is back, with another nasty remark on the meaning of life as he reckons it should be lived. His latest comment was left in response to yesterday's post about how a young man should respond when his parents won't accept he is gay.



Well, okay, I didn't cover that ground exactly - I talked about symphony orchestras instead. But the blog post which motivated it, by Malaysian blogger Robbie, who is having problems with his Dad, does look at this sensitive matter.

I thought Robbie's post about his Dad's anti-gay stance was sympathetic and reasonable, even if I didn't agree with all of it.

Here is Mr Anon's devastating response:



'It is our parents' responsibility to know us and accept us. If you can't be honest with your own family about who you are, it probably means you have a number of identity issues.'

His scathing remark about identity issues is probably aimed at me, rather than poor Robbie.

Back in another life, when I lived with a woman, we used to visit junk and curio shops, which in the olde worlde English-style city where we lived, could be found around almost every corner.


Once I bought a bracelet in copper or gold brass for her, with someone else's name on it. In times past, a man had bought it for his girl, and dedicated it to her. She had an old name like Flo or Betty; the owner of the shop reckoned the piece was about 50 years old.

When we took it home, we polished it with Brasso, to brighten it up.

When I read Mr Anon's acidic comments, I am reminded of that can of Brasso. His comments are so caustic, they could clean metal.



If I could put his spittle in a can, I would market him as Gay Brasso. If I had a gay chandelier, you could clean it for me, love.



Because we enjoy a bit of drama, I have decided to remove the moderating bar on reader comments, at least for a while, to see what he comes up with next. So, fire away, Mr Anon.

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Wind back the clock

In yesterday's piece about symphony orchestras, I mentioned English composer Elgar. Hours after I wrote it, by strange coincidence, I came upon another reference to Elgar, in a short story called Elgar and the Watch My Father Gave Me.

The author is a Singapore-born Australian citizen, Kim Cheng Boey, who teaches creative writing at Newcastle University.

Kim Cheng Boey says that at 16, his Dad bought him a watch - and a vinyl recording of Elgar's Violin Concerto.


Here he is, describing a visit with his Dad to a Singapore market, on the day his oft-absent Pa bought him those gifts:

'At the next stall, a long-haired man with tattoos creeping out of his singlet served up brimming glasses of sugar cane juice with great gusto, grinding the cane and milking the crush for the last drop. The late afternoon light was aligned with the river's flow, a distilled light without glare. I think that was the last happy day I had with my father.'

A week later, gambler Dad, forever in financial trouble, turned up at the house to ask for the watch back, so he could pawn it. Thankfully, his son was much closer to his Elgar recording than he was the watch, for he was never to see it again:

'The watch my father gave me and then took back, ticks only in my memory, where my father also lives. Elgar's timeless piece goes on, retracing, measuring, anticipating our steps, resonant of lost years and vanishing places. Menuhin [who played on the recording] seems to be deferring to the last note; but there is no going back, the music says. I am in a new country, a lifetime away from my lost country, my lost father.'



I suppose Boey grew up with the English language all his life; otherwise, it would be unfair. Many native speakers of English can't write this well. They are unable to use their own language as expressively as Boey does; nor do they have his mastery of story-telling technique.

I found Kim Cheng Boey's story about his Dad, Elgar and the timepiece in a literary journal, Asia Literary Review. The journal describes itself tersely on the back cover as 'new fiction/reportage/travel/memoir'.

Asia Literary Review is sold in the US, UK, Australia, and many places in Asia, including Thailand, where it goes for B395.

PS: Thank you to the friend who sent me two copies. For those interested, I have a list of shops in Bangkok where you can buy it.

PS 2: The story includes a picture of composer Edward Elgar and violin prodigy Yehudi Menuhin, then 16, outside Abbey Rd studios (see first Elgar image above).

'Menuhin is cooperating with the camera, while Elgar's pose betrays an air of unease...perhaps he is impatient to go the races,' Boey writes.

I hope the two men - young, and old - went together. Were they close friends?

Steak for breakfast, bag lady, gays on the perch, concert memories

Chef Maiyuu's sweet and sour fish with rice, which he made for dinner last night.

Below that is his T-bone steak with white asparagus, which he made for breakfast today.

Steak for breakfast? No wonder I'm losing all my youthful proportions.

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Clothes mountain

We are sending off clothes to be washed and ironed today. I send mine every week. Maiyuu sends his every month.

Yesterday he sorted through an enormous pile of unwashed clothes, which he keeps in his bedroom.




We can send only 80 pieces at a time, so he chose those he most wants to wash (I suppose), and left the rest.

They now sit in two large rubbish bags, waiting for the girls from the clothes washing service to collect.

'I still have plenty more left over in my bedroom,' said Maiyuu, referring to his pile of unwashed clothing.

I don't think I have ever seen that space empty. Maybe he enjoys the company of his unwashed clothes.

I sent off a modest basket of work clothes, amounting to less than 10 pieces. These days, I make sure I check the pockets first, as I am forgetful.




Today I found B20 in one shirt, and B60 in another. In a third shirt, I found the ID card I need to get in the door at work, which I left there two nights before (last night, a friend let me in).

That's good. That card is still clean, and doesn't need another wash just yet.

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Gay perch

Two gay guys were sitting outside my condo building yesterday as I went for a swim. They were still there when I got back.

'Do you know Mr So-and-so?' one guy asked as I went in the door.

He gave me the floor number.

No I didn't, but I knew which farang he meant.

'I call him but he does not answer.'

Well, maybe he does not want to see you, dear!




'Can I visit into your room to call him on your phone?'

No, you can't.

'Two Thai friends are cooking up a storm in there,' I said, and left.

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This was one of two gay encounters I had yesterday with members of the public.

Such is the state of my memory, I can't remember what happened in the other, but give me time, and it will come back.



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Orchestral moments

Do you like symphony concerts?

My Mum does, and thanks to her, I was exposed to them from a young age.

In the city where I grew up, the symphony orchestra used to perform annual seasons of well-known classical pieces, in concerts aimed at the young.

My Mum would book season tickets, for me and herself.

The oldest child, I was in my early teens. Maybe Mum thought the others were still too young to appreciate it, though she was to take my brother and sisters in due course, once I became too 'grown up' to be seen out with my Mum.

On concert days - from memory, the first Tuesday in every month - Mum would drive from home to see me at school in late afternoon, a 45min trip.

After I finished my homework, we'd catch an old deisel-powered train into town - one of the few times I went into the sparkling inner-city, except for Christmas - to visit the local opera house where the concerts were held.

We'd take a meal together in a restaurant overlooking the harbour, then find our seats in the concert hall. I don't know what we talked about; I wish I could remember.

I wore my school uniform. Mum used to get dressed up.

Often during the concert, Mum would fall asleep, though she still enjoyed it. I liked watching the players on stage. How come they did not get nervous? Everyone knew exactly what to do...how was that?

The orchestra played popular pieces like Elgar's Pomp and Circumstance (watch him conducting March No 1 here, in a clip from 1931). Many families took their offspring to the concerts, some much younger than me. I used to enjoy inspecting the printed programme - it looked smart, like the occasion itself.

The concert ended about 10.30pm. I suppose we finally got home at the exciting hour of midnight.

Today as I write this, I am listening to a classical radio station broadcast over the net from the same city where I grew up. It is still going after all these years - as is my Mum, bless her.

As we get older, we cherish the best moments from our childhood. I thought fondly of my concert visits with Mum today, after reading about gay Malaysian blogger Robbie, who is having problems with his Dad.

Read his story here.

PS: Violin bows were much longer in Elgar's day (watch the Elgar clip to see what I mean). Why is that?

Green curry crepe, keeping up with the Jones', ant colony, Gorodish's puzzle, Riw returns

Chef Maiyuu’s green curry vegetable rice, wrapped in a crepe, with dried fish on top.

Anonymous, this blog’s resident critic, would kill to have a Thai boyfriend make him dishes so delicious (this was waiting for me when I came home from work last night). He will just never admit it.

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Is mine just like yours?



After prompting, Anonymous (I assume it is the same one, though it could be one of his spawn) - has given me an example of the kind of post I should be writing.

‘Silom Farang just posted a VERY INTERESTING tale about some of the dishonest practices unsuspecting Thai tourists are falling prey to.. so far it has elicited 12 COMMENTS.. not one of which he had to beg for.’

I am delighted to get this response, as I was thinking about this airport corruption saga just the other day.

The story about duty free staff/tourist police entrapping foreign tourists has been well covered at webboards such as thaivisa.com and 2Bangkok.com, not to mention the letters page of the local papers. Overseas newspapers have run it, as have Thai political/news blogs.

Broaden your reading horizons, pal – not all Thai news starts and ends with gay blogs!

Anonymous wants me to cover the same topic that he can read about everywhere else – and in the process, to become yet another farang bleater whingeing about this, that and the other.

No, thanks. If you want to read Farang Tales Inc, then you know where to find them.

The idea of writing a blog should be to offer something different, which readers can’t find elsewhere; or as the blog author, to at least offer my own perspective on Thai life, which no one else is likely to share.

I don’t care about what Anonymous would like to read on this blog, because

(1): He can read it elsewhere.
(2): I don’t want to sound like everyone else.

For the time being, I have switched on the comments moderation feature, so I can weed out Anon’s nastier remarks before they are published here. I am tired of his negativism, so shall now delete him on sight, unless he says something useful.

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Blog enters philosophical phase?

I haven't quite started a mega-jigsaw puzzle, like the Zen-like character Serge Gorodish from Jean-Jacques Beineix's arty French film, Diva (pictured here with his big blue jigsaw wave, and ever-present cigarettes).

But alert readers will notice that I rarely run stories about Thai guys at the 7-11 any more - a staple of every Thai gay blog, surely.

I must be slipping! Truth to be told, I just go to the 7-11 to buy grocery items. It’s only other bloggers who notice cute guys.

I have listed some of them on the blog roll. As bloggers, we are all in this together, so I suggest you take a look.

For my sins, I appear to have entered a different stage in the journey. Those who want more are welcome to stick around. Those who want stories about the cutie at the 7-11 are welcome to exercise their freedom of choice, and surf the other blogs instead.

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Ant invasion


Small brown ants have invaded my keyboard. I must have been eating food over it. Bits and pieces have fallen into the cracks between the keys, and now the ants are having a feast.

A friend says I should just leave them, as they are cleaning the keyboard for me. But it is disconcerting to hit the keys and find ants running in all directions.

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Riw ripples

Regular reader BODYholic is interested in news about boyish ex-actor Athit Riw Tangsawadirun, who was a huge star in his day.

Here's a story about Riw from the Thai papers, written a few weeks ago:

Former star Riw Athit Tangsawadirun has made a dramatic return to the limelight, though not in the way he might have hoped.

After paparazzi snapped him and two youngsters at a department store, the anonymity which he has carefully safeguarded since leaving the industry more than five years ago was shattered.

Journalists asked the inevitable question: Is Riw now a Dad? Previously, few Thais even knew the former star was even married.

On television a few days later, Riw came out to confirm the rumours: he was father to two boys, age 6 and 4, by his first wife Kae, and now raised a daughter, aged eight months, by his current wife.

He was a good Dad, he said, and would like the chance to return to the entertainment industry.

The moment might have passed without fanfare, except Riw’s former mother-in-law, Supaporn Athsawakitimetin, took exception to Riw’s assertion that he took seriously his responsibilities as a father.

Days later, Riw and Supaporn - a woman he still regards fondly calls ‘Mama’ - appeared on television to tell their story. As Riw sat dejectedly, Supapron (pictured above with her former son-in-law) demolished Riw’s portrayal of himself as a happy family man and devoted husband.

Accusing Riw of abandoning his former wife and children, Supaporn said Riw had been a terrible father to his two boys, and had left her to pick up the burden of care.

‘He sees the boys just once a week, and only then because they ask. When they were younger, he missed their birthdays, went absent on Father’s Day. He didn’t turn up for the birth of his second child, nor bother to take Kae to hospital.

‘He was absent for almost a whole year in the later stages of their marriage, which ended when he started seeing a woman my own age.

‘My daughter was so frustrated she attempted to take her own life.'

Supaporn said Riw pays B30,000 a week to help raise the boys. She would like him to increase the monthly amount by B20,000, or alternatively give her a cheque for a lump sum of B10 million.

‘In return, we’ll stop bothering him, and he needn’t support them again for the rest of his life.’

Entertainment giant RS Promotions, Riw’s former label, also comes out of the affair badly. Supaporn said that at the company‘s request, Riw and her daughter hid their marriage from the media – which also deprived her of the chance to see her only daughter in bridal white.

At the time, Riw was in his mid-20s and a star. RS did not want news that he was a married man to go public.



‘They asked my daughter not to go ahead with a wedding, because if they were wed, someone would take photos of the pair, which might leak.’

To oblige RS, the pair married at the registry, and held a simple meal and tea ceremony to celebrate. She was not invited.

Supaporn admitted she had always opposed her daughter marrying a star.

‘Even when we were together, he was constantly on the phone, taking calls from female members of his fan club,’ she said.

Riw said he was just a youngster when he married, and had come from a broken home. He regretted what happened, as he still loved his ‘Mama’ (Supaporn).

‘I know it’s time I grew up and did better. I will try to find the lump sum if they want it,’ said Riw, who these days works as an investment adviser and runs a car wash and restaurant business.

The show ended with Riw, in tears, begging forgiveness at Supaporn’s feet.

PS: Since he appeared on TV, Riw has entered the monkhood, to pay tribute to his parents. His former mother-in-law – the same one who attacked him on TV – showed up to give him another earful, for the benefit of the cameras. He could do nothing except apologise.

Woody passes up free grope, kiss

Actress Aum Patcharapa is under fire for letting TV host Woody Wootithorn Milintajinda touch her breasts in a live interview last Sunday.

Woody asked her if they were falsies. She denied it, and to eliminate any doubt, took his hand and held it up to her chest so he could have a feel.

On the internet, Thais have criticised her for being shameless, setting a poor example to the young, etc.

Asked about the stormy reaction on webboards, Aum says Woody, an old friend, never actually touched her ‘foremost’area, as the Thai puts it, borrowing the English.

‘My breasts are down here,’ she said, pointing. ‘I guided his hand to my chest, but he touched me above them. I was shocked when I saw still pictures of us together, because it does look as if he made contact. But those who were present at the interview knew it was just part of the fun.’

Aum says still shots published in the media of her standing while Woody kissed her cheek were also misleading – he ducked out of that one, too.

'I offered him my cheek for a cheek sniff [Thai kiss], but he didn’t take it. What’s wrong with you, Woody?’ she joked.

See – told you Woody was gay!

Rainbow over Silom, your blog comments

Chef/photographer Maiyuu took these images of a sunrise and rainbow over Silom today, about 6.30am, after last night's rains.

He took the pictures on his i-Phone, and transferred them to my computer.

'It was only there for a moment - I was lucky to get the picture,' he enthused.

Pretty?

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Thank you for the overwhelming response to yesterday’s post inviting more reader comments.

Readers have weighed in with ideas about where this blog has gone wrong lately, and what it’s doing right.

I have responded to almost everyone, in the comments section of the post. Let me put up a few highlights here, positive and negative. They comprise the name of the poster, a quote from what he/she said, and my response:

Anon 2:

--'As to what to write about, I believe that the majority of readers are interested in the daily life of Bangkok. For those of us who live in Farangland nearly EVERYTHING you see and do daily is different and unique to us. When I am in Thailand I feel like I am on a different planet. If you write using a little descriptive style, I believe virtually anything about life in Bkk holds interest.'

You make good points. I have to remind myself that life here is very different from what I could expect should I still be in the West. Sometimes I take it for granted, especially when I spend the day cooped up at home.

As you say, even humble excursions to the doctor can be interesting, if they are written up with a little style - highlighting those little details which point to the differences between life as we would expect it in the West, and what we get here.

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Anon 3:

--'As another hint, if there IS anyone- anyone- anyone else in your life besides this so-called boyfriend of yours, it might be interesting to hear more about them for a change. Reviews of a decade-plus-old movie just aren't what I read blogs for.'

He is not a so-called boyfriend; he is the boyfriend. He just doesn't meet your expectations of what a BF should be, whatever they are.

Apart from the BF, the most important people in my life are those at work. I would like to tell you more about it, but I can't, as I want to preserve the anonymity of this blog as much as possible. If I wrote about work, people would recognise themselves.

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Anon 6 (Kriz):

'All I can say is that maybe you should get out of the house more often and explore your surroundings and take us along with you.'

I agree. I should.

I still believe that a story about a visit to the doctor (say), well told, is better than yet another humdrum post taking you on a tour of some part of Bangkok.

I am more interested in people, and what makes them tick, than I am in places, and I suspect most readers are the same.

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Inbkk:

'I live in Thailand myself, and I like to read about other farang experiences. I see some new interesting blogs sprouting and some others losing steam...I am sorry to say yours is not in the first group...’

I am sure you do. Let me guess: Another cynical tale about Thai bureaucracy at the airport? The hopelessness of Thais in the classroom, as seen by a foreign teacher?

Why do so many foreigners living here just want to hear about other foreigners and their experiences of living in this place?

I would rather hear about Thais, thanks very much - I don't know about you, but that's why I'm here.

Many foreigners who live here are on a tourist visa, endlessly extended. Do they have much commitment to the place? They never know from one 90-day extension to the next how much longer they can stay.

Even those foreigners who work and live here legally are but migrant labourers. We are cut off from Thai life. Most of us get to meet few people of any note.

But if I was to write about those foreigners who stand out here, and have made a success of their lives, would you be interested in their stories, or would you try to take them down a peg (as so many other foreigners do) for having the effrontery to fit in?

Foreigners who 'fit in', or who lived here a while and are happy with their lives, might have less to say. Maybe I have been here too long to contribute anything much more interesting to a blog. Time will tell.

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Please keep the comments coming. Reader reaction shapes what this blog is.

A few readers reckon the blog has become more boring since I moved to my new place. I get out less, and meet fewer Thais.

I looked up my blog tracker to see if readership has declined in the four months since we left. Google Analytics tells me it is steady. It still pulls an average of 900-1000 unique visits a day.

Thank you for your support.