Will you still need me,
Will you still feed me,
When I'm sixty-four.
I turned 60 this morning. 60, not 64, but what the hell, I just have to quote those epic Beatles lines.
A milestone of sorts, but no fanfare or fireworks, only android-driven congratulatory messages from Telekom Malaysia, Digi, Senheng, and, you've to believe this, Umno Selangor. If anything, I know now whom to vote in the coming general election, if ever there's going to be one.
I share my birthday with Cristiano Ronaldo and Carlos Tevez, and the similarity, rather sadly, ends there. They're talented, young, good-looking, rich, famous, heavy-haired, Latin. I'm Kelantanese. The contrast almost makes me sick. My only revenge is that these guys do have some serious problems: drinking, drugs, women, contracts, taxes, violent managers, and team-mates waiting for the half-chance to break their legs. I only have high cholesterol. I know you'd still choose Cristiano.
Unless you're a palaeontologist, sixty years is a long time. To give you a fair idea, it's longer than a mid-season Wigan vs West Ham. I spent half of that time in Petronas. If I could turn back the clock and restart, I'd probably end up working............ 30 years in Petronas ! Yes, I'm that boring. Thing is, I just can't warm to the idea of working at Felcra, Hong Leong, Puspakom. Just examples, nothing against these companies. It's alright if you're already caught in any of them. Petronas has always been the gold standard, so there's no motivation to switch even in another (hypothetical) life. Whether Petronas would still take me in if it could go back isn't the subject of this discussion.
I've never celebrated my birthday. No, I'm not superstitious or phobic or sick. On the contrary, I think birthday is one of the biggest concepts in the brief history of human thinking, up there with Natural Selection and Baltic Dry Index. I'm just indifferent to birthdays, exactly the way some of you are indifferent to tomatoes, dragon fruits, Indons, vice-presidents, and so on. I did get occasional birthday gifts, though, from my two girls: a hand-drawn card with a funny dad caption, a Hallmark card with a funny dad caption, a mug with a funny dad caption, a plain Timberland tee.
With my bad birthday attitude, you can only expect that each and every one of my birthdays to be a non-event. You're right. Each and every one except my 55th. I'd to retire on my 55th birthday, so I'd to wait and watch for it because if I work beyond my 55th birthday I won't get paid even though Petronas is the richest company in the country. My co-workers reminded me by throwing a birthday bash (just cake and Coke actually). It's my last birthday in office, so it's the least they could do. It's all very well and they're seeing the back of me but a few days later I was back on contract. The next birthday, I was still in office but nobody said anything. It slipped right past me the way it had always been for 54 years: a non-event.
Now that I'm 60, what will change? Can't think of anything right now. Maybe I'm now more qualified or entitled as a senior citizen. It's downright comical how senior citizens are being pushed around in this caring and cash-rich country. When you hit 55 you're officially a senior citizen and you can enter Penang Bridge marathon as a veteran and you can legally beat the long queue to renew your passports. But the bloody LRT will only allow you discounts when you're 60 and they will also allow you to compete with Nigerian students for your priority seats. Hospitals? You're only priority if you're 65, and not dead.
