The Simple Life?

I am not proud to admit that in the past I did watch a couple of episodes of the above reality show. Paris Hilton and Nicole Ritchie's weak attempt to tackle "hardship", the whole charade was just to get them TV time and exposure! I think one of the draw of the show was actually the colourful display of obnoxious behaviour from two very rich, very spoilt and very ignorant girls. They don't really know life, simple or otherwise, but at least it gives bored people something to bitch about after watching the show, you know, wahahaha...!

Anyway, for people to truly understand hardship, short of going through it themselves, is to have close contact with the genuinely under-privileged. I guess that puts volunteers way ahead in the league. I have great respect for these volunteers, I do. They go to hospitals or old folks' homes to clean butts of people who aren't even related to them. It takes a big, humongous heart to do volunteer work.

Let me deviate from "simple" and "hardship" to "inconvenience". I have often heard people grouse about driving from Point A to Point B. Too far, so inconvenient, they exclaimed!

Inconvenient? They are already so fortunate to even have a car to drive around. Inconvenience is when on rainy mornings (and travelling by bus), I have to bring Joseph to school carrying him, his school bag, my own bag, an umbrella in hand, at the same time trying to keep everyone and everything as dry as possible, and not arriving late for work besides. I have many other inconvenient situations but I deign to mention them all lest I should sound bitter about life, which I am not. Just wonder why people who drives can complain about their lot, are they just too comfy? Is that why road rage happens, some of them feel "inconvenienced" by other road users?

Oh, caught in constant traffic jams? You poor dears, having to put up with traffic jams in the comfort of your air-conditioned personal space of your own car, having choices of radio stations to tune in to, or play that cool jazz cd, or chat to your companion in the car, or listen to pastor's sermon, or pray in the spirit (with no furtive looks from strangers).

You poor drivers in your car, while we daily get to squeeze with other bodies in the peak hour bus rides, or watch in silent horror at old men who leave their nose pickings on MRT doors.

Speaking of nose picking, I recently sat beside a harmless-looking young chap on the MRT. He was neatly dressed in an orange short-sleeved shirt, and seemed civil enough. Imagine my shock when he started nose digging, no joke, I mean it, he wasn't merely picking nose, he was digging it for all it was worth. Thankfully my station came next and I escaped into the vast, free, and hopefully, clean space of the MRT plarform.

Ha ha, this is just part of my normal life, with tiny hardships and simple conveniences.