Okay so about a month or so ago, we were at this place near Chinatown for dinner. I say that it's near Chinatown because to be quite honest I don't know how to define this area that's actually opposite Hong Lim Complex and across South Bridge Road.
Some people will say that this is part of Raffles Place and Shenton Way.
Others, however, will say that it's actually on the outskirts of the Business District, and even though China Street and Telok Ayer Street are a short walk away, it's right in the middle between the housing board estate of Kreta Ayer, and the business district of Cecil Street, China Street and Church Street.
The actual name of the street where this Taiwanese cafe is would be Nankin Street, but, with it being completely pedestrianized now, few of us actually bother about that.
Here's the funny thing, however.
At another time in another mood I would not have been able to write about this as fluidly as I do now.
But somehow today, for reasons unknown, I can.
See, the AIWA Walkman has always been familiar to me.
Not so much perhaps in the last twenty years or so- that's how things go- but I know a place where on the shelves there're still disused AIWA hi-fi CD Players, and old AIWA Walkmans sitting in the drawers.
Because Mr. Radioman spent a good part of his life in the company, and it was a significant day when the corporation closed its operations, upped and left.
I cannot look at an AIWA Walkman (any model, it doesn't matter) and not think of spreadsheets, little plastic parts and pale blue engineer-type uniforms.
And there was one, right here, in this Taiwanese cafe, so close to me, at the table beside, on this warm weekend afternoon.
Seeing it brought back a host of memories.
You know how people say they never really forget how they operate certain mechanics and certain machinery?
That's how it was for me with this Walkman.
I didn't need to walk over and have it in my hands to know just where the eject button was.
Neither did I need to walk over and feel its weight in my hand to know how chonky it felt.
I'd had had models similar to this a long time back.
Black, mine was, with buttons in similar places, and which I used until I was gifted a (prototype) lean, rectangular-shaped, dark green one with a shiny surface which I absolutely loved.
That green one was probably the last Walkman I used before CD players took over.
But you don't forget things, even from your own perspective.
Till today I cannot look at an AIWA Walkman and not think of all the tiny little components that go into making this piece of (vintage) consumer electronics that's made life much more pleasant on the ear.
The boomers and Gen Xers know just how it's like to have the joy of listening to music on-the-go, wherever we are, wherever our feet take us.
And as branding a statement as it might sound (hello SONY), it's true, really, that there's something special about having our favorite music, and our favorite playlists with us wherever we may be.
It brings us back to things that we've done, places that we've been.
It brings us back to the impact point we got when we first heard that song.
There are times where we might forget aspects that happen in our lives.
But if we've been listening to certain genres and certain music in those seasons that we were there, chances are, the impressions will stay, and they'll pop up again every time we hear the music all over again.