Tuesday, November 11, 2008

The day he Rocked and I Rolled Over

The other day I was at my aunt's house. And visits to relatives are usually associated with mundane chit-chat about the careers of nephews and nieces, the hobbies of nephews and nieces, the love life of nephews and nieces - because really, us nephews and nieces are the sole reason why aunts have anything to talk about at all. Apart from the latest episode of Oprah.

So yes, aunt's house, which I haven't been to in at least half a year I can easily estimate. Everyone has congregated in the dining room for tea. And whaddya know, my cousin's back from Perth on holiday! That was a pleasant surprise. And she's brought along her guy friend.

A really tough looking guy friend.

I introduce myself to him. He grips my hand and tugs it gently.

"Hi, I'm Eric," he says with a raspy American lilt.

I sit down in the empty chair next to him, and my mom initiates the E! Entertainment update session at the other end of the table.

As we all wait for the milk tea, fried bananas and kuih lapis to be brought to the table, I observe the newcomer from the corner of my eye: long-haired, weathered, tattooed and well-built. Almost Hell's Angels-like, but with a mild enough presence to make one suspect that he bears a capability to stop his bike in mid-cruise to pluck a caterpillar from the middle of the road and place it in a nearby bush.

I can't remember what I exactly asked him next: a toss-up between "So how do you find Malaysia so far?" or "How do you find the weather here?" or "How long is your trip in KL for?" - something that makes me acknowledge him as part of my extended family but at the same time trying my best not to give away my previous obliviousness to him being a part of it to begin with.

His reply includes how much he loves the weather here. "It's just like home! I stay in California."

"Ah! I see. So what do you do?"

"I play drums."

Ah, a musician. That explains the rocker appearance.

"Wow, okay. Who do you play for?"

"Um, have you heard of the band called KISS?"

As in, KISS?

As in, KISS??

As in, KISS???

As in, KISS????


"Oh yes! I do."

"Yeah. I play for them."

"Oh! Oh cool. Okay. Cool... Cool."

I turn away and reach for my freshly-poured mug of tea. While a member of one of the greatest rock legends in the history of human existence sits next to me. In my aunt's humble abode in SS2. Munching on a buttery slice of kuih lapis.

The WTF-ness raging in my head, at that moment in time, could have been easily considered as revolutionary research material for the world's alternative renewable energy resources.

My cousin met Eric while he was touring with the band in Perth over a year ago. And for some reason, I was the only one who wasn't aware of this. How I can be denied of the knowledge of my remote association with sheer awesomeness, is irrelevant now. I'm too busy screaming for Eric in the moshpit of my cranium stadium.

Wedding bells, I beg of you, please ring soon.

More about Eric Singer can be found on his website.