SINGAPORE 60's: ANDY's POP MUSIC INFLUENCE IS A PERSONAL MUSIC, MEMORY TRAIL. BLOGGER DOES NOT OWN THE RIGHTS TO VIDEOS, AUDIO TRACKS AND IMAGES. THEY ARE UPLOADED FOR FUN, EDUCATIONAL, ILLUSTRATIVE PURPOSES AND HAVE BEEN CREDITED. BLOG IS NOT SPONSORED NOR ADVERTORIAL IN ANY WAY WHATSOEVER. INFORM BLOGGER OF COPYRIGHT ISSUES AND POST WILL BE DELETED IMMEDIATELY. DO NOT COPY THE POSTS; GET PERMISSION N CREDIT ME IF YOU DO. ANDY LIM LA (NOVEMBER, 2008) -
(新加坡六十年代安迪的流行音乐影响力), SUDI MAMPIR !
A delightfully enchanting tale from good friend, Ronald Ho, that may not move any young person's heart today. But I love it! There were no handphones, lap-tops, digital games or bubble-tea drinks but lots of good 'clean' fun, fruits and BICYCLES! Thanks Ron.
Andy, all kampong boys somehow learn to ride bicycles even though they do not have the luxury of owning one themselves. I was one of them. Learnt to ride adult bicycles by borrowing them. We were poor and could not afford such a luxury back in 1950s.
I found a key which happened to be a master-lock key, and used it to borrow, without permission, an adult bike from an old man who left the bike locked while he went to work. My rides were from 1pm to 3pm till one day, he had the afternoon off and came back at 1.30pm to find his bike had been borrowed.
He was understanding after my apologies but my Mum was furious and thrashed me in his presence. I was made to give up the master key. It was not until 1965 when I had to attend night classes at Lembaga for A level that I bought a $75 bicycle made in Taiwan from the savings I earned while working at Straits Times Periodicals as a clerk for 4 months (I quit as the job was silly and boring) and decided to further my studies.
The bicycle was fun as the rest of the Meltones, except for Richard, could go biking. So Jimmy Appudurai, David Lim, Kelly Tan, Malcolm Alphonso, Billie (David's cousin), Derrick DeAlwis and I decided to ride from Katong to Lim Chu Kang to see Giles Miranda, our classmate who was at SAFTI.
It was a ride I will never forget as it took us through the farms of Paya Lebar, Aw-Kang, and Angmo Kio to Sembawang, and through old Mandai Road during the expansion of Upper Seletar Reservoir, and through old Chua Chu Kang and Jalan Bahar. We had fun stealing rambutans, guava and other fruits from unguarded trees. On the way back, we took the west coast route and landed at old Bouna Vista Road (aka the Gap) where we were thrillingly rode our bikes downhill like Old Thomson Road Grand Prix motorcyclists. Luckily, no one fell or was injured. But we lost half of the rubber on our brakes.
Here is a quote I took from Google AI on the Gap: "Yes, South Buona Vista Road in Singapore was once known as "The Gap" from the 1950s to the 1970s. The road is a curvy, winding, and narrow rural road that runs through hilly terrain and connects Dover to Pasir Panjang. Locals also commonly refer to the road as "99 bends".
It was great to be young. I will not trade my youth days for anything.
Any comment my dear reader? Always welcome for one.
Another accident a few days ago (23.09.2019) where a senior was badly hurt, was taken to hospital. She may not live.
For many years vehicles can weave a dangerous path if they speed on our roads but even with the traffic cops so tough and legislation so strict, we still have our share of accidents.
Today what has been occurring on the roads is now happening on our pedestrian paths, footpaths or five-foot way, perhaps on a different level but the dangers are there. The authorities are not taking action fast enough. These motorised two-wheelers are hogging the roads and pedestrian walkways. PMDs (Personal Mobility Devices), e-bikes, motorised bicycles, push-scooters, mopeds, and self-balancing-electric scooters can be very dangerous if not properly controlled.
Stay safe, light up your machinehttps://movehappy.sg/night-riders-stay-safe-dark/ It's fine if riders follow the rules but situations are uneasy because four factors are felt when they use their machines indiscriminately on footpaths. Riders travel: 1)like greased lightnin', 2) at night without lights, 3) without a bicycle bell, 4) without a crash helmet. Anyone could suffer injuries if knocked down. For Seniors, it can be fatal! According to the newspapers, a few were in trouble. Shouldn't riders go through a training course before they are allowed to use them in public? Are we going to wait for more accidents to occur before tighter legislation is enforced? The machines aren't dangerous if the riders are careful. *There are too many easy riders in Singapore. Literally some, not all, just take it easy on the pedestrian walks; they should be more civic-conscious and careful because lives are at stake.
A Bicycle Built For Two by Nat King Cole was a hit song from 1892. Daisy Bell it was called also.
Riders Beware. You Must: a) Watch out for pedestrians all the time, b) Control machine well, c) Move carefully, d) Have a bicycle bell, e) Wear reflective clothes. f) Wear a crash helmet. Addendum:
Glorified Machines? Many pop songs from the west glorify motorcycles but forget the dangers these machines could pose on their riders and others. Remember some of these songs from the 60's and 70's about motorcycles? Vincent Black Lightning -Richard Thompson -1952 Leader Of The Pack - Shangri-Las - 1964 Little Honda - The Hondells - 1964 The Motor Cycle Song - Arlo Guthrie - 1967 Born To Be Wild -Steppenwolf - 1968 Ballad of Easy Rider - Roger McGuinn - 1969 Midnight Rider - The Allman Brothers - 1970
Eazy Rider - Jimi Hendrix - 1971 Too Old To Rock, Too Young To Die - Jethro Tull - 1976 Bat Out of Hell - Meat Loaf - 1977
Born To Lose - Motorhead/Ironhorse - 1977 Motor Cycle Mama - Neil Young - 1978
How nice if all of us had some decency and think of others on our footpaths. 'Little Honda' by The Beach Boys. Video by Bonneville66. Thank you. It is a bit of an exaggeration to compare huge motor-bikes to our motorised two-wheelers but the end result could be similar, that is, people may get hurt because the machine can be dangerous if the driver isn't careful. Anyone?
1) Click Comment page below to read. 2) According to many readers, Singapore does not have a bicycle culture. Read this connection:
Where The Bicycle Bell Rings Taiwan The highest building Taipei 101 is in the Xinyi Commercial District, has many luxury shopping malls and is one of the must-see destinations for visitors to Taiwan. The area is cycle-friendly, thanks to a grid of purpose-built cycling tracks where one can hire a bike by swiping a public-transport and convenience store friendly card. It costs about US$3/00 for a three-hour ride. How convenient. What amazed me were the clean and shiny bicycles all neat in a row, ready for use. During our trip last year to Taipeh we didn't try riding them since my wife doesn't ride a bike but with the ease of transportation, wide, clean pedestrian paths and friendly people it was just as convenient walking around.But it has a healthy bicycle culture.
New Zealand A similar culture was already in existence way back in the 1970's when I was in Christchurch, New Zealand. Amidst colourful flowers on side-walks and orange-leafed trees I remember seeing this windy rush of bicycles with a dozen pretty Kiwi girls in shorts turning a corner in the busiest part of the city. No speed, no hassle, no one fell as each bike disappeared safely around the bend. It was fast but it was a beautiful sight indeed. And I noticed that no one wore a helmet! Cyclists in New Zealand were usually very polite and street sensible, stopping at corners and giving way to pedestrians. I noticed that most bicycles had bells on them and the sweet ting, ting, ting sound that danger was behind. But this was in 1973 so I don't really know what's happening today.
France According to an article about cycling, France was one of the first countries to ever take up past-time. In fact, the word bicycle was originated in France in the middle of the nineteenth century. The creation of the Tour de France bicycle race in 1903 made cycling all the more important to the country. Personally I have seen them all over the country; on cars,in trains, ferries. They move over mountains, hills and dales. Again, the culture, developed through many years of practice makes perfect, have cyclists who hardly knock into pedestrians, other cyclists or vehicles. They stop to give way, and like the ones in New Zealand, will stop at zebra crossings, red lights and make way for little children who come in the way. This happened in the early 1990's but could be different now.
Les Bicyclettes de Belsize - Engelbert Humperdinck. One of the most famous songs about bicycles is a favourite of mine called, Les Bicyclettes De Belsize. The song itself is from a film of the same name and the music and lyrics were written by Les Reed and Barry Manson. This favourite has been a hit for Engelbert Humperdinck since the 1960's and was top ten in the UK and top forty in the USA and other countries.
Where The Bicycle Bell Doesn't Ring: Singapore I do not own a bicycle now but there are lots of stories about this mode of transport in Singapore recently. Bicycle lanes, bicycle parking spaces, bicycle thefts, bicycle locks and so on. It's a great way to get around but the question is, do we really have a bicycle culture in our country? There must be formal lessons in etiquette and civic consciousness in the classroom before the people in charge embark on such a project. We cannot take for granted that cyclists, pedestrians and motorists will commit to rules they have to abide by. Otherwise it may just be too late.
For illustration only. Is this safe for the child? In my area there is a ladywho carries a baby in a little wicker basket (image right for illus.) that is perched behind the bicycle. I have spoken to her politely about the dangers, that we cannot take for granted the road situation, but she has ignored my advice.
We have people in Singapore today from foreign lands. It is urgent that they realise they are not in their own country and situations here are different from those abroad. Similarly we must school our own citizens to abide by the rules too. A culture takes some time to evolve but we need to start with proper enforcement. I was nearly hit by a cyclist recently when he came past the bus stop I was at. He was inches away from me, coming from behind, without warning, without consideration and worst, without slowing down. For a safer cycling experience. What do you think? Please write in.
Queen Bicycle Race Disclaimer: There is no intention to criticize the present system but we need to tighten the screws where regulations and enforcement are concerned.
Introduction: So much has been discussed about our transport system in Singapore today. The news pieces have jolted me to write about my own experience in the past when we did not have the luxury of the MRT trains and beautiful air-conditioned buses. This posting is not about buses in general but one about the excitement of taking Singapore bus rides in the 1950's as a teenager. Whether I was as lucky as The Hollies I cannot tell now but I did have an encounter. So be warned.
The Excitement: In the 1950's there were different modes of transport on the road. I could take the trolley-bus, the trishaw, the taxi or the private car. Strangely, it wasn't any of these vehicles that excited me (images above). The buses did. These large vehicles had always been a fascination for a teenage boy like me. Although I still have a phobia because I was hit by one as a child at school I still love to ride in them. A bus could take me further than my bicycle. (*Remember my bike adventures which took me to school and my vinyl record buying spree?) I had never thought of taking any other mode except the bus.
I started taking buses in between my bicycle trips. I would cross the road from my shop house and wait at a Singapore Traction Company (STC) bus stop near the Queen's Cinema at Geylang. When the bus number 15 arrived from Tanjong Katong Road, I would board it to go watch a movie at the Odeon or Capitol Cinema at North Bridge Road. Depending on the time of the day, the bus could sometimes be packed.
Adventure 1: Standing On Steps I got excited when it was full because I could purposely position myself precariously at the entrance and hold on to the side-bar. Those years buses had the same entrance and exit. It was exciting standing at the step-landing of this entrance. The idea was to feel the full force of the wind on my face and the adrenaline rush that ensured. I would 'land' at every bus stop on the way and get on again when the bus moved. Best thing was, nobody bothered. The bus driver didn't bother; the bus conductor didn't bother; the passengers didn't bother. Freedom. Actually many of the bus commuters, especially the younger ones, were just trying to avoid the heat and sweat in the bus because it was furnace hot inside, especially when one took the mid afternoon buses. Standing at the entrance was one of the best places to be when taking a ride since buses were not air-conditioned then. "Cool wind in my hair."
Adventure 2: Conductor Hide & Seek The other 'adventure' was avoiding the bus conductor and this idea was brought about by a school mate. The conductor would usually go round in the bus with a little canvas satchel when passengers had to buy differently priced tickets depending on the distance.
I had always paid my five cents for the ride when I was inside, especially when the conductor asked for payment. We would be given a clipped ticket for the exchange. But this friend would play hide and seek with the conductor and would try to avoid him for as long as he could until he paid for his ticket or was chased out of the bus.
Since long seats were arranged on both sides of the vehicle there was much standing room for most passengers in the belly of the bus. A crowded bus was like a forest of people inside so it was easy to avoid the conductor. If he came to the front a commuter could snake easily to the back and vice-versa and sneak out of the bus when it stopped to avoid payment. I had always paid for my trips.
Adventure 3: The Pervert
One of my worst experiences was when I started boarding the bus at the Tay Koh Yat Company terminus at the junction of Aljunied Road and Geylang Road across from the Post Office. It was my connection point to reroute to my school. A young man in his twenties started getting friendly with me and even wanted to pay for my fare. He was on the bus almost every day and as much as I tried to avoid him he would somehow acquire a seat next to mine and would start talking to me. I knew what he was up to. At 14 years old I had learnt a lot instinctively. Since I read books often and experienced much from movies I was aware of his intentions. I guess in today's language one would call him a stalker. In later years my suspicions were confirmed when I saw the movie, **Never Take Candy From A Stranger. I could not avoid him so I learnt to be friendly with him but had always avoided his advances and invitations to, "go to a movie" and "eat satay at the Rex Cinema." Adventure 4: Those Rainy Days Many years later and just past my teens, an early evening drizzle cheered me up when I took an occasional bus to the Odeon Cinema in town. It was there that the lyrics of The Hollies song became meaningfully real as I boarded the bus: Bus stop, wet day, she's there, I say Please share my umbrella Bus stop, bus goes, she stays, love grows Under my umbrella... Conclusion: Today I have started taking the buses again but it's a different experience. Air-conditioned comfort without having to think at which direction I'm heading and bus captains that have been very helpful. Also a tap with your card to pay your fare. But no long, cool woman in a black dress...
Did you enjoy your bus-rides as a child? Come tell...
Footnote:
**Never Take Candy From A Stranger was a 1960 thriller. The twin themes are pedophilia and sexual abuse of children, and the way in which those with sufficient pull can corrupt and manipulate the legal system to evade responsibility for their actions.
Film is regarded as bold and uncompromising for its time in the way in which it handles its subject matter. (Wikipedia.)
Waiting for the magic bus at Orchard Road - request stop no less. Bound for Island view via Pasir Panjang if memory serves. 1966 (From Peter Wythe FB). Some Songs with Bus Titles: 1. Waiting for the Bus; ZZ Top 2. Magic Bus; The Who 3. Trailways Bus; Paul Simon 4. Thank God and Greyhound; Ray Clark 5. Tie A Yellow Ribbon; Dawn 6. Wheels on the Bus; Folk Song Images: Google and Singapore Heritage Board Websites. You Tube: The Hollies with, Bus Stop. This original article is copyrighted. *My bicycle story: http://singapore60smusic.blogspot.sg/2015/04/1950s-bicycle-trail-riding-rudge-for.html
When the RAF Police were called in, our friend was having a Rolling Good Time. Allan Thomson's at it again with his Tiger and Reckless Group.
Dear Andy,
This is yet another story from my time at RAF Changi in the 1960s. Like one of my previous ones, it ends up with personal injury caused by too much Tiger Beer and a youthful reckless streak (which the following incident cured).
Writer and This Blog's Contributor Allan Thompson RAF Changi 1960s.
In August, 1965, one of my friends (Michael) spent a week in hospital undergoing surgery to correct his sight. On his release, he suggested having a small party to celebrate the success of the operation. Four of us (Michael, Geordie, Jay and myself) went to the Chalet Club at RAF Changi for a few quiet beers. The bar staff were playing "With The Beatles", the second album by the group, and we all sang along as it played.
After a few minutes, one of the club's committee members came across to our table and asked us to stop singing because it was against regulations. We did so, but, a couple of songs later, we started up again and were warned that they would call the RAF Police if we did not stop. Michael protested that we were not doing any harm, and we carried on singing. A little later, two RAF Police corporals arrived and told us to drink up and leave, which we did.
We walked into the village and went into the Airfield Bar for another drink. There was no music in the bar so there was no incentive for us to start singing again. I think it was only the infectious sound of The Beatles' music which had prompted us to join in at the Chalet Club.
As we left the Airfield Bar, Jay produced a bicycle from somewhere and Geordie immediately took it and asked if I wanted a lift on the crossbar. In the madness of the moment, I climbed on and we set off down the village street. As we approached a roadside makan stall, Geordie suddenly lost control and we hurtled into the stall, scattering tables, diners, crockery and food before us. Geordie stood up and tried to placate the angry diners while I tried to disentangle myself from beneath the bicycle.
I was festooned with rice, strips of pork, squid rings, bamboo shoots and prawns, which I tried to brush off my clothes as I rose to my feet. We apologised to the diners and offered them some money to buy more food, and gave the stallholder a few dollars to replace the broken crockery. We decided to leave the bicycle leaning against the wall of a building and walked along to the Changi Millie Bar (formerly called the Changi Milk Bar) where we met our two friends and had another beer.
singas.co.uk When we left that bar, Geordie suggested that we go back for the bicycle which we mounted with me on the crossbar once again. We cycled along the village street and Geordie said he was going to enter the camp by the side gate. He turned right to go in but, on finding the gate was locked, he went straight through a tall hedge beside it. We removed the bicycle and ourselves from the hedge, brushing twigs and leaves from our hair, and wiping the scratches we had received during the mishap. Instead of abandoning the bicycle there and then, we foolishly decided to continue along the main road towards the main entrance to the camp.
"You can ride on the bar this time," I told Geordie. "I'm tired of you crashing into things."
And so we set off along the road until we were simultaneously blinded by the headlights of an oncoming vehicle and almost frightened out of our skins by the sudden blare of a motor horn from behind us. I was still steering us straight, but Geordie, presumably in a panic, grabbed the handlebars and we shot up on to the grass verge and into brief oblivion.
The next thing I knew, I was looking up at the stars through the branches of a tree with something heavy lying on top of me, and warm, sticky liquid dripping on to my face. Where was I, I wondered? Then the heavy weight moved and I heard Geordie cursing as he moved off me. We were in the bottom of a deep concrete monsoon drain, and the sticky liquid was Geordie's blood from a gash in his forehead. We struggled out of the drain and saw that the front wheel of the fallen bicycle was still spinning slowly, and the car (a taxi) which had been behind us was sitting at the roadside, the driver looking anxiously in our direction. When he saw both of us emerge slowly and painfully from the drain, he waved to us and drove off.
Presumably he had been waiting to see if we were still alive, and when he saw we were all right, he left so that he did not have to get involved with the Police. I had a very painful head and my right nostril was blocked. Geordie's wound was still pouring blood so he tried to staunch the flow with his handkerchief. We hobbled back to the village and asked one of Sher Khan's taxi drivers to take us to Sick Quarters where the Duty Medical Orderly looked at us in alarm and called out the Duty Medical Officer.
Soon afterwards, a young doctor in white slacks and a floral shirt arrived and listened to our sorry tale as he cleaned up Geordie's wound which turned out to be superficial, and then examined my head and nose. He told me to report sick the next morning and to request an X-Ray to be carried out on my jaw. When he heard that the bicycle did not belong to us, he sent for the RAF Police who turned out to be the same two corporals who had cautioned us hours earlier in the Chalet Club. "Rough justice," one of them chuckled as they helped us into their Land-Rover and took us to the Guard Room. We each made a fairly incoherent statement and then they drove us to our block where we stumbled upstairs to our beds.
The next morning, my nostril was completely blocked and my right jaw was in agony. When I looked in the mirror my face seemed to be lop-sided and, if it hadn't been for the pain, it would have struck me as rather comical. I reported sick and was sent up to the RAF Hospital where an X-Ray confirmed that I had broken my right jaw and an operation was required. The operation was carried out that same afternoon and when I regained consciousness I was lying on top of a bed in a ward containing about eleven other patients, including two fellow Scots from the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders.
We had a TV set in the ward but we only watched some of the early evening programmes. The News was read in four languages, as I recall, and I remember frequent broadcasts by a choir singing "Malaysia Berjaya" with great vigour. "George Of The Jungle", "Bilko", "Z Cars", "Ben Casey", "Dr Kildare", "The Third Man", and, of course, "George Of The Jungle", were some of the programmes which spring to mind. I can also still remember a few of the adverts: Brand's Essence of Chicken, Kao-Wonderful, and Bic Pens (with the cartoon of a pen drawing a lassoo while the voice-over called out "Bic, Bic, Bic, Yippeeeeee!" or some such cry).
I spent a week in hospital and I passed much of the time reading: "The Singapore Story" by Kenneth Attiwill, about the Fall of Singapore, and "A Thread Of Scarlet" by Bruce Marshall, a novel about a Roman Catholic priest. In the air-conditioned Intensive Care ward next to ours, a young man lay in a coma with several tubes attached to his body.
Popular TV Shows In The 1960's
One day, when I was standing on the verandah outside my ward, a very pale, very pretty young lady emerged from the young man's ward, tears streaming down her face. I wanted to go over and offer her some comfort, but I hesitated because I was not an attractive sight with a stitched shaven area above one ear and wearing bright blue pyjamas. Fortunately, a nurse came along and led the young lady away. I learned later that the young man, her fiancé, had died of his injuries (sustained in a car crash) earlier in the day.
When I was discharged from hospital, I called at my place of work and was told to take the rest of the day off. I had a severe haircut to make the shaven area above my right ear less obvious, and went to Changi Point to relax in the sun with a book and some cigarettes. I felt much better after a swim and I was pleased that the tide was full and there were no clouds in the sky.
When I returned to work the following day, Geordie and I were called before our Commanding Officer who told us each to write a letter of apology to the owner of the bicycle (which had not been damaged in the incident) and said that he would regard our self-inflicted injuries as punishment enough. We both felt very ashamed of our stupid actions and it was a great relief to have been let off so lightly. I went to a married friend's house the following week-end to rest and let my shaven patch grow again.
There was a disappointing postscript to that foolish escapade when I went to RAF Biggin Hill a couple of years later for an aircrew selection board. I passed all the medical examinations, the aptitude tests, and the interview, and I was feeling quite confident and optimistic. Then I was recalled and told that I was being turned down because, although I had suffered no after-affects from my injury, they felt they had to err on the side of caution.
I quite understood their reasons for this decision: it was expensive to train aircrew, and, since head injuries could sometimes cause problems in the future, it was better not to risk such a thing happening during operations in the air. Rough justice, indeed, as the RAF Police corporal remarked back in 1965, but I have to admit that I thoroughly deserved what happened to me.
To all the people of Singapore I should like to offer my belated apologies for behaving so stupidly and irresponsibly while I was living in your fine country. Sorry!
The attached photograph was taken of me recuperating at my friend's house a few days after my release from hospital. The shaven area above my ear is plainly visible and my face was still very swollen from the surgery. As a matter of interest, that is a soft drink in my glass!
Good wishes,
Allan. An SG50 contribution from Allan Thompson, RAF Changi, Singapore, 1960's.
