Never on Sunday?

desiderata.english

I AM SURE many drivers are switched on to Light and Easy listening to songs that are soothing and calming, so essential to keep a cool and level head caught in traffic jams, especially in Kuala Lumpur, the capital city of a country with First World infrastructure, but hardly a civic culture and character in tandem with developed nation status yet. The recent road rage incidents resulting in death surely testify to that.

As the good doctor Miller recommends "doses of laughter" for good health on top of the apple a day, I recommend to the high-strung Malaysian motorist music and songs (which emcompass poetry really -- more on this later). You may have occasionally enjoyed Connie Francis' springy Never on Sunday (You can kiss me on a Monday, a Tuesday, a Wednesday ... but Never, Never on a Sunday ....) and moved to hum along so you can ignore the guy flashing his/her lights at you from behind? Ladies, don't nod your head 'cos your age will show, for this number was a high from the roaring sixties, and deejays like Vicky Skelchy ruled the waves. To the younger set, if the name sounds Greek to you, Vicky was the equivalent of your present Paula Abdul or Sarimah maybe?

I don't subscribe to resting on Sundays, but I do believe in R & R ('Rite and Recreation), so here is my posting which I am dedicating to the promotion of the English language -- and the appreciation of exquisite English on par with Dr Doolittle's! In this effort, Conversationists (you, my esteemed readers) are encouraged to 'rite in to me (Email chongyl2000@yahoo.com) with nuggets of excellent English -- short passages that strike you like lightning bolt of awakening, poems that connect with thy heart, anecdotes that make you laugh, or make you weep ... the possibilities are endless, if you'd only spare some time ....

I will exercise the highest standard of "editing" desiderata.english postings plus conversations so that by year-end, the Ministry of Education will come to this Blog as the Reference of Impeccable English! Pulling your leg here, but Thinking Aloud -- You Are Allowed to, you know! as an afterthought, why not, as sincere, dedicated human endeavours may just turn up surprising outcomes.

Remember the advice dished out by an education expert recently that Malaysian school children should watch more TV to improve their English? I hope people in authority act with caution and responsibility before opening their mouths. Many parents worldwide are already lamenting that falling education standards could be due to too much time spent by kids in front of the idiot box!

A whodunit

If the advice was more specific like "Watch a particular programme like Sesame Street and Little House on the Prairie" for primary pupils, and Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet or Julius Caesar or even The West Wing or Kopitiam for secondary/tertiary students, the advice may be acceptable and heeded. Proper enunciation and refined language and excellent content and casting are the desiderata.english criteria I'm advocating here for the Ministry official to ponder, and adding my counsel he not speak off-the-cuff on such serious matters involving our children's education.

I shall end my Sunday's rumination with a Short Story here.

A college professor was lecturing his students on writing a good, short story. He stressed that four features must be present. First, one ingredient is Sex -- for without it, there would be no human race, so there is no academic pursuit, so there is no need for desiderata.english either.

Second, one must have Religion, for this differentiates Homo sapiens from animals, as religion governs humankind's way of daily living and leads to his/her civilization process. Otherwise, there is no hi-story.

Third, there must be Mystery, for this challenges the reader to read on to test his imagination and detection power if he could transcend the writer's creative prowess and guess the ending.

Lastly, by definition, a short story must have Brevity; otherwise, ..... it's not wise to underestimate your reader's intelligence.

So the class of Nobel laureate-aspirants set to work, and except for the rustle of pens on paper, there was pin-drop silence.

From where he sat on the front table, the professor spied a restless youth watching the courtyard outside through the window, obviously comtemplating the old banyan trees, the chirping birds, both the feathered and human kind (with lads in tow, holding hands, and picnic baskets, what else). And the young man's thoughts strayed.

The professor tapped the young-man-deep-in-reflection on his shoulder, enquiring if he had problem with his assignment.

"No, professor, I have accomplished my mission," the bespectacled lad proudly replied, handing over a page of paper. All eyes of his coursemates were now focused on the potential winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature.

On the piece of paper was written the following:

The Duchess of Winsor is pregnant,
O' God, I wonder who did it!