Morse code

The first time I heard of a place called Iowa was back when I was still in lower secondary school (or middle school).

One day, I read in the local paper about an American pastor who was also an amateur radio enthusiast or ham radio operator.

In the article, he mentioned that if anyone was interested in learning Morse code, that he would be happy to teach it.

I was into everything in those days, so that was why I found myself in the Methodist Pilley Memorial compound the next day. (The newspaper article had mentioned he was teaching there).

I managed to find Rev. Long and he accepted me.

Twice every week, in the late afternoon, I would ride my bike to his home in the school compound.

There were two other boys besides me and we would sit in his home office/studio and practice Morse code for about an hour.

We did that for a few months, so among my many talents was also Morse code, which I must confess to having completely forgotten.

Reverend Richard Long (although if my memory is correct, he was know as Rev. Dick Long at the time—that was how the newspaper article referred to him) was from Iowa.

He was a quiet man. He didn’t talk much and we never developed much of a relationship.

I’m not sure if this was because he was Methodist and I was Catholic.

There was quite a bit of interdenominational rivalry in those days in Sibu (which possibly still exists today).

Or whether he was just a reticent person.

I’ve also forgotten when or why the lessons stopped—maybe because we had completed the course of study.

I actually became quite good at Morse code and was able to send and receive messages with it, all in a classroom setting of course.

There were a few episodes connected with our weekly Morse sessions.

The other two boy taking lessons with me were sophisticated (compared to me) and spoke English (as opposed to the local dialects) to each other with a strong American accent.

Only rich upper class kids spoke English at the time so I knew they were probably from wealthy families. I never got to know them well but one of them was called Daniel.

I had mentioned the variety concert at the Methodist School hall.

During the concert, I happened to meet them backstage. When they saw me with Mr. Wong, one of them made a (snide?) remark, ‘Oh so you play guitar too.’

The other thing I remember were the cakes baked by Mrs. Long. They had the most wonderful aroma which would fill the entire house. We could only salivate (at least I did).

After Rev. Long left Sibu, we corresponded a few times and he also sent me a very thick used ham radio operator’s handbook.

I didn’t have any equipment, of course, so the book lay on my shelf for a few years and I don’t remember where it ended up eventually

So why did I suddenly think of Reverend Long today?

Well, what else.

Despite all the evidence that this is a conman extraordinaire, a crook, an insurrectionist, a serial philanderer, a Siberian Candidate, and a proven loser in almost every election, the good folks in Iowa still picked him today.

As they might say, ‘What is wrong with you people!’

Fake news (Serious alert)

It seems like it’s impossible to escape fake news these days.

People can make up any kind of story.

Most of the time, I ignore these stories but there’s one that I feel I have to respond to.

Recently, I heard that an old rival back in my school days has been claiming that he was my first guitar teacher.

I would like to categorically state that this fraudster by the name of Lim Choon Yang was NEVER my teacher!

On the contrary we were friendly rivals back in school.

I eventually surpassed him in all techniques especially the tremolo, a fact he’s apparently still smarting over.

This is the truth of the matter and it can be verified by all who knew us in those days.

I’ve only had three classical guitar teachers. They are:

David Wong
Colin Henderson
Karl Herreshoff

I have taken a few lessons with Mike Rose and Margaret Nielsen.

I have also studied jazz guitar with Al Defino, Jim Kelly, and Jon Damian.

None of my real teachers ever had to CLAIM that they were my teachers.

Anyone who HAVE to claim that they’re my teachers are frauds and shameless losers.

Don’t believe FAKE news!

IN THE COURTYARD OF HIS HOUSE

Another poem from Canta, 1976.

IN THE COURTYARD OF HIS HOUSE
 
You, my Lord, are the love of my heart
for you give me darkness, in which I can hide
from the smell of predatory angels, and hunger
for light which I know I could never bear
hibiscus blood of. Nor even in terror of death
I burrow in have I ever forgotten your goodness,
not even buried alive in quicksand nightmares
have I not trusted your compassion for me.
Now, lashed to the bone and burning
in the fires of the pagan sun, I act my faith,
each of my screams my love sung to you
from my flesh for the darkness you gave
and will give.

It has taken my years
to learn what I am as you made me, and love.
Though my self is to shrivel like ashes
blighting the petals from edge to the heart
of blackness golden, and my task is to drift
on casually infinite winds
into dust of dust more noble souls shall need
for troddling through to deeds more brave than I
can do for you. I love you for letting me be
in all my moments, dust.

There is none
like you, my Lord, among dust and ashes,
none who flower my darkness and incense
my turbulent heart with light, my love,
none. Your touch vanishes me to joy
not one, not all my madness can overwhelm.
Without you, I am nothing. With you,
my nothing sings, more beautiful offering
than hibiscus opening damp on the hedge of dawn.


Published in Canta, 1976. Author unknown

The Mozart of wisdom

Jesus can rightly be called the Mozart of wisdom.

Like Mozart, he was a precocious kid. According to the lore of the time, he was able to debate grownups and religious scholars when he was twelve.

During his ministry, he was so smart no one could pin him down.

The Pharisees tried to trap him with the tax question and his answer was genius, “Render onto Caesar…”

Then they tried to trick him with the adulterous woman and his answer was to deflect the answer back to them by saying, “Those without sin…”

They also tried to trip him up with questions about the Sabbath but he deflected those too with examples from David and the sheep falling into a pit on the Sabbath.

Mediocre minds tend to see only the superficial.

They’re all about following rules and observing proper protocols.

But sharper minds understand that there’s a deeper reality which matters more than simply observing the superficial.

It’s the letter vs. the spirit.

In all these instances, the Pharisees were focused on the superficial while Jesus was on the spirit side of things.

Once you recognize the giant intellect of Jesus, it should lead naturally to a curiosity about his teachings.

What kind of teachings would such a brilliant mind produce?

We come back to Mozart.

Imagine if you were to hear Mozart performing and extemporizing with characteristic brilliance—wouldn’t you be curious as to what his symphonies would sound like?

The following is not an exhaustive list by any means.

But here’re a few of my personal favorites of Jesus teachings.

1. Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. This is the secret to success—persistence and never giving up. The principle works because if you keep on looking, eventually you will cover every piece of ground, and you will find what you’re looking for.

2. But God said to him, ‘You fool, tonight you will die. Now who will get the things you have prepared for yourself? The fool gets carried away by his success and forgets that ultimately, nothing belongs to us, everything belongs to the Creator.

3. Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Nature is abundant. Don’t worry about the future. As long as you seek the kingdom, all these things will be given to you. As long as you follow your passion and work towards realizing your kingdom of heaven, everything will be given to you.

4. For to everyone who has will more be given, and he will have an abundance. But from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away. This is from the parable of the Talents and it is my favorite. On the surface, it doesn’t seem fair. Why would you take from those who have not and give it to those who already have plenty? But fairness is a human construct. There is no fairness and unfairness in nature.

One simple example. Movement and mobility is a gift from God. But if you get lazy and decide not to walk and instead use a motorized wheelchair to move around, eventually you will lose your muscles and your ability to walk. Echoing that old aphorism, “Use it or lose it.”

5. Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. To be like a child is to be without artificiality, to be without affectations, to become direct, to be able to be in the moment without any agenda or false sense of one’s self-importance. As a musician, I’ve found that these principles are key to attaining virtuosity and mastery.

6. Love your neighbor as yourself. This is the greatest lesson from Jesus. It forces us to focus our attention to others. And the reason is because love is infectious. When you spread love (or what I call positive energy) around, it will come back to you. The underlying lesson is if you want to be surrounded by love, you must send out love first.

7. A farmer went out to sow his seed. This is a reminder that present actions determine future outcomes. It’s the law of karma—you reap what you sow.

Interestingly enough, this has become the grifters’ parable. If you ever hear a pastor speak of ‘sowing your seed,’ run away as fast as you can because he’s going to ask you for money. ‘Seed’ in the grifters’ dictionary is another word for money.

The above are just seven of Jesus’ greatest hits.

There’re many more where these came from, and while you’re digging for other nuggets of wisdom from the four gospels, don’t forget the newly discovered Gospel of Thomas.

One-upmanship/2

Continuing from my previous post about the friend who did not appreciate my attempts to debunk his conspiracy theories.

He probably thought I was getting a little too arrogant, in Chinese, the word would be ‘proud.’

The other word would be ‘disagreeable.’

You see, you’re not allowed to contradict someone who thinks he’s one-upped above you. You have to be a yes-man, and so when you start to contradict them, the usual accusation is ‘he’s getting a little disagreeable’ these days.

(Perhaps preceded by, “Whatever’s come over him? He used to be so nice and agreeable before.”)

There’s a peculiar American word which is unique to the country.

The word is ‘uppity.’

You might suspect that the word has something to do with one-upmanship and you would be right.

If you check the dictionary, the word is mostly defined as ‘arrogant’ or ‘haughty.’

But to people who know the word well, the word has a more sinister meaning.

Basically, it’s used to describe people who have the nerve to try to forget their place in life, a place that they have been preassigned.

And this place that have been preassigned them is (surprise, surprise!) one-down below whoever is doing the preassigning.

First, it’s important to establish that the upmanship and downmanship here exist only in the mind of the person who is doing the preassigning.

And that’s the thing about one-upmanship.

It’s mostly a personal thing, something that someone has created in his own mind, based on whatever distortions or delusions they may have about themselves and their presumed place in life.

To call someone ‘uppity,’ first, you must believe, for whatever reason, that you’re superior to him, that you’re one-upped above him.

And being one-downed, he’s supposed to play the role of a meek and mild person, someone who runs around at your bidding, someone who says, ‘yes, sir’ when he sees you.

In other words, a doormat.

And so when this little doormat has the nerve to forget the role you have assigned him, when he dares to contradict you, when he refuses to do your bidding, then he has become a little too ‘uppity.’

What do you do with people who harbor such self-delusions?

You could stay your ground and burst their bubble even more.

Or you could avoid them.

My personal experience is that when someone has created such an inflated sense of themselves, nothing you do or say will change anything.

Because they have already built an impenetrable armor around their fragile egos.

The best policy is to avoid them, unless you like confrontations.

To set the record straight

This is something I had never expected, people crawling out of the woodwork claiming they were my teachers.

I’m not sure how to take this.

Should I take it as a compliment?

A sign of success? After all, if I was a dismal failure, I doubt there would be anyone trying to take credit.

The first time I encountered the problem was when someone in Kuala Lumpur told me that there’s this teacher in town who was going around telling people he was my teacher.

The funny thing is, I had never met the guy, not then, not now.

I had heard he studied in London with the famous pedagogue, Wyndham Waffle. Other than that I have no clue who this imposter is.

And now there’s this old schoolmate who is going around saying I was his “first student.”

My recollections of this person are rather hazy but I remember he had always been a friendly (or unfriendly) rival back in the day, and he was always trying to catch up with me, even back then.

Great strategy—to make yourself feel better, tell people you ‘taught’ the other guy.

Now, why should these things bother me?

Because I can’t have every Tom, Dick, and Harry try to rewrite history at my expense.

After all, they say if you tell a lie often enough, people will actually start to believe it.

And to dissuade any would-be loser from staking any more claims on me.

So to set the record straight.

I have had only three guitar teachers in my life.

David Wong Hie Bing who gave me my first lessons in Sibu, Colin Henderson of Burnside High School, Christchurch, NZ, who nurtured my playing, and Karl Herreshoff aka David Hagemeister, of Nights in the Garden of Spain fame who inspired me to become an artist.

The rest are imposters, to put it kindly.

Or losers, to put it less kindly.