I found this sign yesterday, or about 15 of them, all over the three lower floors of The Center. Two thoughts sprung to mind: Can a warning be hoisted? and: Wasn’t it 14 degrees yesterday? That’s more than a lot of people have in their offices all year round! (My personal record for summer office temperature: 11 degrees.)Â
Everything is relative, and although for me there must be at least minus fifteen degrees, icicles falling on my head and people sitting down to rest in snowdrifts never to wake up before you can even start calling it cool, I do realise that 14 degrees can seem daunting to some. But cold weather warning? Really!
One place where it wasn’t cold no matter how you look at it, though, was the delightful Makumba bar in the steepest part of Peel street. The owner had put on an African fashion show with her own designs, and used the street, or should I say sheer cliff-face, as a runway.
One by one her fabulous creations glided down the hill – it was just as well the models could be barefoot because believe me, it’s steep – to the gentle rhythm of African music performed by beautiful geezers.
The models were the designer’s girlfriends; what’s in fashion known as “real” women, of all ages. When she realised she had a bunch of men’s shirts she also wanted to show, she just roped in four guys from the audience.
To the accompaniment of a rather … different? commentator dressed in a green checked suit and looking not a little like Peter Stringfellow who would say things like: “And now I present to you the beautiful Lulu. She’s a lady of the night. And she loves bankers” this wonderful, slightly surreal fashion show went on, and I nudged my friend: “I bet you the police will turn up within the next ten minutes.” For I am a cynic, you see. And I’ve lived in Hong Kong a long time.
And yes, three minutes later, at 22.21, there came the boys in blue. There had been a complaint about music being played outside, live, without a licence.
To their credit, the constables were very embarrassed at having to shut the thing down, in fact they disappeared into the bar and let the show go on for a good ten minutes until all the dresses and shirts had been well and truly seen.
But oh, who? Who can’t stand to hear a little bit of live music, not loud and very soft without drums or electric guitars, in the street of an evening? Who, when they see people having a great time watching a truly original and spectacular show, has only one thought: Call the police?
I pity that tiny little person.
The people living around Peel Street and that lower bend of Elgin Street have become quite aggressive lately about calling the police at the slightest provocation or sign of gathering in the streets. We sang “happy birthday” outside of Sahara and the boys in blue showed up, rather embarrassed. We agreed to move along, and they wished my friend a happy birthday.
Not on my corner of Hollywood Road they haven’t. There is screaming, bottle smashing and fist fights almost every night now between 12 and 1. I don’t mind, I quite enjoy the entertainment.
Eric: I can understand that the people living in the middle of the most densely populated corner of the planet want to have peace and quiet of an evening but is it now illegal to be in the street? I thought the cut-off time for noise was 11 pm. Is it illegal to sing in the street before that? Law and order is all well and good, but how can one complaint make something that isn’t illegal, illegal? At least the police are embarrassed, but they should tell the caller to shut up and call again after 11 if the noise continues. They should stick to the law the way they do when there’s a complaint about illegal dumping for example – “It’s on private land so there’s nothing we can do about it.”
Pete: Entertainment! It’s great!
Mina grannar brukar ocksÃ¥ föra oväsen när det är lönehelg. Mellan 01-05 vill jag sova. HÃ¥ller dom inte käft (dÃ¥ ska dom verkligen störa i huset) ringer jag efter dom Svenska torpederna. När jag själv spelar musik, ser en film eller producerar egen musik är jag noga med 23-gränsen. Efter 23 dÃ¥ blir det hörlurar pÃ¥… Jag har själv fÃ¥tt höra frÃ¥n en trevlig dam (grannen ovanpÃ¥) att min musik har lite bas som hörs och det var nÃ¥gra gÃ¥nger dÃ¥ jag glömde av 23-gränsen. Men att jag sjunger det störs hon tydligen inte av bara basen frÃ¥n musiken.
Annars är Stockholm en ganska tyst stad efter 23!
And in my neck of the woods the local residents truly managed to maintain public order by objecting to the opening of a bar seeling alcohol of all things. Now we have a bar, but a coffee bar.
Jimsee! You’re back! Everybody missed you… Write more! Coffee bar – that counts, right? No, probably not.
Og TFC .. hva heter du? Jeg syns også at ting skal være stille mellom 01.00 og 05.00 eller skal vi si 12.00 og 06.00, men 22.21? Nå må de bættre ta seg sammen!