Thang Nguyen 555

Modern times, changin times, a time they are a’changin…

Just wait, wait, wait some more…it will come back, fads and fashion, the look and feel of yesterday. (e.g. Material girl…Madonna).

Since the contour of the Earth is round, chances are “it”, whatever it maybe, will come back. Except we won’t be around to recognize its shape and size.

The ombre and oeuvre.

A bit shading, twilight then complete dark.

My kid takes up tennis as an elective, classes held outdoor, in 104 that “feels like 107”.

Unlike in the old days, at Cercle Sportif, with Lodge, then Martin and Big Minh, playing and resting under umbrellas, in the shade, wearing all-white.

Wilson, Bata (Nike wasn’t around then) and of course, the white towel.

People longed to travel, to go abroad and to bring home gifts from the sea, a new way to look at the same old, and of course, cramming in a few “mots” e.g. “moi”, “toi”….to show how westernized one has evolved into.

Light up that zippo. Smoke those Melia cigarettes while glancing at the Paris Match (magazine).

Tres heureux de vous vois! “thanh lich”, refined and classy.

Now, all jam and cram, pollution and horn-blowing, farce and “fart” (on Instagram and TikTok, for “Likes”).

Say no more. Look no more. The times they are a changin’…

At this rate, AI rules, and us are left holding the phone, competing against machine for supremacy, “infinity in the palm of our hand”.

I saw a guy pee holding his phone. Chew gum and walk, smoke and shoot.

Think, breathe, and see for yourself. See if my observation make any sense. Future shock is a perpetuating process, just like grief. One cannot parse, then batch and bunch up dream into mass products for mass consumption, like a cigarette pack, a vapor and a zippo.

In A Thin Red Line, we find a protagonist/journalist in combat shooing away a pimp who pitched a girl for a very affordable price.

When the dollars started to replace the francs, we found long-held values compromised, Cercle entry membership fees jumped higher only to be replaced by last-flight manifest bribe on the upswing.

Gone. The Vietnamese called it “dut phim” ..the film stopped. No amount of splicing would mend broken sprocket holes.

“Saigon oi, mong voi tay cao hon Troi….” Keep dreaming….

I’ll be seeing you Saigon, if not in life, then in dream.

My kid plays tennis, just like Lodge after his failed VP bid, like Martin after his failed Third solution (very Frenchy…as “toi” or “moi” may say) and like Big Minh himself who fled abroad, to fulfill the Indochinois dream (going abroad to see faces and places.)

The problem with bi-pedalism and lots of other isms, is that we, they, I cannot stay in one place and rot en place. We need new frontier for macho’s conquest hence fulfilling that “subdue the Earth” mandate.

We, cordoned off the native, to build up then “tear down” walls, Bill Gates and Assassin gates, Apple and Samsung… a pair of MPs and sentries to check proper “ID’s”, at Cercle Sportif, or to AI- verify paid subscription. How is that for “sampling” and selling the sizzle, to bait and switch (after free trial).

Kid wears her ID alright, under the watching eyes of not just one, not two, but three set of eyes. Police ones. For fear of a Uvalde repeat.

Yesterday better? Today better? Left, or right? One or two? as long as she could see the green ball coming at her…fast and furious…after all, it’s only 104%, not 105% when I left Saigon on that fateful Tuesday afternoon….

Fade in the Moody’s Blues…please.