Idol Fever

I'm sure some readers must have been mystified by the "self-professed Jay Chou fan" description provided in my introduction placed in the quaint green box on the right hand side of my blog. If you know me in real life, you must know that I missed his sold-out concert last year, can't remember one thousandth of the words in his raps and don't even own his latest incomparable DVD .

So much for being a fan.

In Camp, however, where I am not quite so shy, it all becomes a different story. Some people jokingly call me Jie Lun while others go to the extent of asking me when my latest album not so comparable is coming out.


" I'll rather listen to the banshee singing in the shower," Kate Jones, Music Review.

It all started during the days when Singapore Idol was all the rage. My Company( who's complaining about the army now?), decided to hold a singing competition. Idols Night, it was called.

When asked for a entry from my platoon, some scheming monkey decided to sabotage me and volunteered my name. Of course I vehmently denied it. I couldn't sing for nuts.

And so when the day came for the auditions, there was still no representative from our platoon. After much coaxing though, two groups come into being. I was in one of them. Now singing in a group was much better than singing alone . What the heck, if all else failed I could just mouth the words. The audition ended with a team photograph.

There was no loud cheering of "I'm going to Hollywood!" when we got the results that night. For one , everyone got through the auditions. True to the spirit of Idol, we were all presented with a photocopied piece of paper congratulating us on making it through the auditions.

Posters were strategically placed around our company line the next day. Looking as though we were posing for a picture at the beach, I saw my team. I groaned inwardly.

It most certainty wasn't Hollywood, but we were dressed to win that fateful night at the Officers' Mess. Both our teams wore a uniform white polo t-shirt and blue jeans. Since our group's competition song was Jay Chou's Gui Ji, we decided to sport a cap.

" I like your caps," one of the judges, our CSM, commented after we were done with our item.

" It gives you all a real Jay chou feel."

" Bravo with the mumbling," another quipped.

" I couldn't understand most of what you were singing." he continued, drinking from a cup of Coke.

We ate our refreshments as we watched the rest of the teams perform.

One item had an entire group of about 20 people came up on stage. They stood in a single file and started, with much difficulty , "25 mintues" from Micheal Learns to Rock. Not considering that it was horribly out of tune, that most of the participants did not know the words and that there was no CD for them to sing to, it still reminded me of the screeching sound fingernails make when scrapped on the chalkboard.

Of course there were Idol-quality teams too. They were so good, I almost expected Paula Abdul to jump from behind the pillar to tell them that "they were the team to beat" and at the same time give a standing ovation.

The most interesting performance saw the lead singer singing as he waltzed slowly from the audience to the stage. I could only balk as he delivered his gimmick.

Using stickers for voting through handphones, the audience were invited to place their vote on the team they liked best at the end of the event.

I am not going to lie to you. We got fifth place.

No. There weren't only five teams. In fact there were about ten teams.

For that, we got a pair of headphones. Branded one le.

A few days after the events, someone stopped me in the cookhouse while I was looking a place to sit.

" you were singing Gui Ji on Idols Night right?" he asked, balancing his cup, plate and soup on his brown tray.

Cringly a little, I replied.

"Yes"