Shifting Furniture
Su has a habit of shifting the furniture in the flat from time to time, almost always by herself and of her own will and accord, to suit some new purposes which had arisen, but often to create more room for maneuvering. To enable the new year blossoms to catch more sunlight, for example, she would shift those flower pots as often as necessary, and she had removed books from bookshelves to make room for the vinyls she had collected from time to time, leaving those books stacked up by the bed, her side.
In the beginning, we had designed a bar at the flat’s entrance, originally meant to enable two persons sitting on either side facing each other, eating, drinking and talking, but shortly after we had moved in, the countertop had become rather crowded while both sides of the bar were cluttered with stuffs such that it became impractical if not impossible to have people sitting on either side. The side closer to the kitchen had built-in storage space for wines, more wine glasses and cutleries, beside a small fridge. Unavoidably, Su could only access the contents after temporarily removing the objects in front. Then came yesterday, when Su suddenly decided to enliven the bar to its original purposes. She had begun the move while I was walking the park, so that I could only participate upon my return. To cut the long story short, Su managed to place on the kitchen side of the bar the wooden bar chair that she had acquired for the Park Road flat before we met or many years ago, so that both doors beneath the counter could now be opened. On the other side, I placed the purpose-built bar chair bought from Ikea for the Conduit Road bar. I also cleared the shoes and artefacts beneath the counter to provide very comfortable legroom. At the same time, we re-arranged the countertop a bit to make out sufficient room for a plate or two with glasses, on either side. We are both satisfied with the results, which is what matters.
Meanwhile, Su picked up from a Facebook friend – Ivan Wong – a post giving notice of a bin sale of old vinyl records from $30 each, at an upstairs shop in Yau Ma Tei, from 4 February. On the day, we took off after breakfast. The plan was to park at KCC, walk to the shop, look around and see what we could find. It was not a short walk, but very much worth it, by Su’s account at least. We stayed there browsing for over an hour, possibly 90 minutes, and picked up 32 records, some in almost perfect conditions. It was too much to walk back. Luckily, we grabbed a taxi to KCC and got home, skipping my gym work. Su played a number of discs after cleaning and giving each a clean inner holder. Yes, they were all good and value for money. The next day, while I was out, Su had another go and went to the shop by herself. She even had a chat with Ivan whom she learnt was once a famous persona in the vinyl music circuit, having contributed valuable critiques regularly on publications and in the media. Apparently, he had also been involved with some singers and artistes, culturally and commercially. Su carried home more than 35 pieces. They are now all piled up in front of the bar, flat’s entrance side.
Last night, over caviar and champagne, followed by red wine and whisky, we discussed the music of the 60s as Su cleaned more pieces and played them. She had picked up Mahler’s Number Two Symphony in two records, with excellent sound quality, a few Ventures’ plus many 60s recordings. Surprisingly, many of these oldies are in excellent playing conditions, considering that they had been manufactured for over 60 years, some unused, but mostly almost new. Su suggested that Ivan must have cleaned them beforehand. Some disc covers bear the same owner’s name chop, whom Su reckoned was a dance instructor. There was one record for example that was entirely on tango music, typically played on the accordion and saxophone.
Looking back, I was a Secondary School student in the 60s when most families in Hong Kong were not rich. Indeed, many were poor and struggling to find food on the table. For most families, including mine, it would be a luxury to find the money and space for a record player or to acquire vinyl discs which were not cheap. Going to the cinema was more affordable, and many of us picked up western music on the radio or through movies. In Wah Yan, we had a session each week called PR, which stood for Private Reading. We did not have classes on Music as such, but a Jesuit Priest would sometimes arrange during the PR session to play some classical music on a record player in the Music Room, participation to which was somewhat selective or accidental. I had learnt of the top hits through the radio, including the Beatles, Elvis Presley and a few top singers at the time. Indeed, I found out that the majority of my friends had gone through similar experience. My first regular exposure to listening to vinyl records was through my very good friend, the late Joseph Au. After matriculation, his father was out of work and couldn’t afford him a university education. He promptly found a bank job and had sufficiently money to acquire a record player and one or two vinyl discs each month. That was how and where I picked up most of my music background of the 60s.
We would probably need to shift some furniture to make room for the newly acquired 70 discs.
