You Call That Fun?

It was already 7 pm but the sun was still out.  Even daylight seem to be efficiently used in this part of the world.  The good thing was that it’s a holiday and I put the extended daylight to good use, frolicking, playing basketball, getting my ass kicked. 

The group decided to catch the tail end of this country’s 42nd anniversary by going to Marina Bay to watch the advertised fireworks display.  We managed to arrive at the venue before the show along with thousands of other people.  Unlike the various colors that would invariably turn black once they’re all mucked together, people’s smell does not mix well with other people’s scent.  Instead of one consistent stink, you get a spiked assault of various hues.  Human’s are not to be messed with.  We smell, and we smell bad in various degrees.

The fireworks display was magnificent– and short.  People still oohed and aahed but it was just too brief.  I hope this does not translate to the Singaporean’s prowess in bed.  I’d hate to hear their spouses say, “It was magnificent darling, all 10 seconds of it” as they lay in bed, clutching the sheets to their chest wondering what the hell just happened.

I don’t know what sort of activities went on before that, but if that fireworks display was supposed to close the show,  I think they could have done better.  Or maybe I was just expecting too much.  I’m Filipino after all, and we Pinoy’s love the flair of the last two minutes.  The entire show can suck for the first 98 minutes, but a good two minutes worth of unbelievable last hurrah would certainly induce historical amnesia to everyone of us Pinoys.

This country can perhaps teach us Pinoys a thing or two about good governance and efficiency, but when it comes to putting on a show, I say we’re heads and shoulders taller.  Perhaps the show organizers can pick the brains of one of our more venerated master showman.

Kuya Germs, what say you?