THE GHEE TREATMENT

Young people can sometimes be utterly enchanting. This evening two chess mavens in their early twenties guessed that my friend the bookseller and myself were in our forties. So of course we agreed with them. Yes indeed, forties. Right on the nose. That's spot on. And how remarkably perspicacious of you! This was in a very brightly lit place, and they weren't drunk. So I shall go out on a limb and say that in normal daylight, which in San Francisco is overcast gloom at this time of year, I look like quite a dashing young fella.

You will kindly stop looking all bemused now. It was worth an attempt.

And I shall NOT be sharing that with my apartment mate, who once called me "geek old man". In which descriptive nomen I have never been able to find myself, by the way.


On the one hand, Ah Ming believes that I should get of my duff and go out there to "kau neui" ((溝女) because I am, apparently, still young and handsome and full of spark, and a sixty plus engineer with whom I had gotten into conversation at a chachanteng asked me what I used to do before I retired. So it's all a question of eyeballs. And age.

I 'm not retired, and still haven't decided what I want to be when I grow up.

Orange is the new black, crocodile green is the new American flag blue, sixty is the new forty, and dear leader Trump is so full of genius that his cabinet members are astounded. Astounded, I tell you. The brilliance!

Retirement (退休 'teui yau') is not something much on my mind. What has been occupying space there recently are pipes, tobacco, roast duck and roast goose, great boobies Honey Bun, events in Indonesia from the end of World War Two till the seventies, I really should make an effort to read Pramoedya Ananta Toer's books, coconut milk yellow curry, a nice oily sambal, and why are there so few places where a man can sit down and have a nice cup of naai chaa in a ceramic vessel, with or without a saucer?

As you can see, the attic is a bit messy. Roast duck and roast goose are much more reality-based than the great-bun stuff, pipes and tobacco are constant, and Chinatown used to have more cups and saucers than it does now. I often make naai chaa at home, where in addition to crockery I can often have a smoke alongside, provided her door is closed till she returns from work and some windows are open to provide ventilation. Which requires plotting.


By the way: I am pleasantly surprised that there used to be a product called 'Carnation Mush', plus very quirked by the bookseller not being able to consider a ham and cheese croissant extremely suited to breakfast. Protein! Energy! Butter! I mean, a nice greasy mutton curry is also perfect breakfast food, and why am I the only one who thinks so?



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